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In 



HOSPITAL AND CAMP: 



Woman's Record of TimiLLiNa Incidents 

Among the Wounded in the 

Lat2 Wa-. 



BT / 

SOPHRONIA E. BUCKLIN. 



"WITH AN II^TRODTJCTION" 

Br S. L. C. 



PHILADELPHIA: 
JOHN E. POTTER AND COMPANY, 

Nos. 614 AND 617 Sansom Street. 
1869. 



9889 



altered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1869, by 

SOPHRONIA E. BUCKLIN, 

In the Clerk's OflBce of the District Court for the Northern District of New York. 



\J' 



P • 



V) 



PI 





MISS BUCKLIN'S OFFICIAL PAPERS. 



The following are exact copies of the official papers re- 
ceived by Miss Bucklin, at various times, and are properly 
attested and on record : 

Office op Women Nurses, 
United States Hospital Service, 
Washington, D. C, May 30th, 1S65. 

To WTiom it may Concern : — This certifies that Miss S. E. 
Bucklin has been employed in the United States Military 
Hospitals, in the capacity of nurse, with credit, and has now 
retired from the service with credit, and she always has my 
kind and friendly regards for her generous labors. 

D. L. Dix, 
Superintendent United States Hospital Nurses. 



Seminary Hospital, 
Geoegtown, D. C, July 16th, 1862. 
Miss S. E. Bucklin was on duty at Thirteenth Street Hospi- 
tal, while I was connected with that institution, and I take 

5 



6 MISS BUCKLIN S OFFICIAL PAPERS. 

much pleasure in recommending her as an attentive, faithful 
and industrious nurse, and deem her a valuable assistant. 

T. W. Miller, 
A. Ass't. Surgeon, United States Army. 

The above certificate seems to me just and correct. I 
readily testify to the good character of S. E. Bucklin. 

D. L. Dix. 



Camp Letterman, General Hospital, 
Gettysburg, Pa., Oct. 9th, 1863. 
This is to certify that Miss Bucklin has been acting lady 
nurse in ward B, Third Division, discharging her duties to the 
perfect satisfaction of patients and surgeons, being of untiring 
industry, energy and perseverance, and indefatigable in her 
efforts to alleviate the sufferings of our noble wounded 
patriots. 

Wm. B. Jones, 
A. A. Surgeon, U. S. Army, in charge of Third Division. 



General Hospital, Camp Letterman, 
Gettysburg, Pa., Oct. 29th, 1863, 
I have much pleasure in testifying to the kindness and 
attention of Miss Bucklin to the patients in Ward B, Third 
Division, of this hospital. I have no hesitation in recom- 
mending her as a most efficient and indefatigable nurse, 
whose equal I have seldom seen. 

James Newcombe, 
A. A. Surgeon, in charge Third Division. 



MISS BUCKLINS OFFICIAL PAPERS. 7 

Camp Letterman, 

Gettysburg, Pa., Nov. 8th, 1863. 

This will certify that the bearer, Miss S. E. Bucklin, has 

been on duty in this hospital in the capacity of nurse ; served 

a part of the time under my immediate notice. I recommend 

her as having performed her duties diligently and faithfully. 

Very respectfully, 

W. M. Welch, 
A. A. Surgeon, United States Army. 



Camp Stoneman, D. C, April 22d, 1564. 
It is with great pleasure that I can conscientiously state 
that Miss S. E. Bucklin, hospital nurse, who was connected 
with ward No. 1, of which I had charge, always discharged 
her duties faithfully and cheerfully. She never was called 
upon by those who were suffering for aid that she did not 
respond promptly. As regards moral character, it was, while 
connected with me, irreproachable, 

H. G. Chritzman, 
A. Surgeon, Eighth Kegiment, Pennsylvania Cavalry. 



Camp Stoneman, Post Hospital, Cavalry Division, 
Dpt. Washington, D. C, May 30th, 1864. 
This may certify that Miss S. E. Bucklin has been a faithful 
and attentive nurse in this hospital for the last three mouths. 
I can with pleasure recommend her as being of good character 
and worthy of the confidence of all with whom she may be 
associated. Ira P. Smith, M. D., 

A. A. Surgeon, United States Army. 



8 MISS BUCKLINS OFFICIAL PAPERS. 

Hospital fob Colored Troops, 
Army of the Potomac, Oct. 11th, 1864. 
The bearer of this. Miss S. E. Bueklin, has been nurse in 
Depot Field Hospital, First Division, Second Corps, for the 
past three months under my charge. She has been faithful, 
efficient and competent — a good nurse, and I cheerfully re- 
commend her as such. F. M. Hammond, 
Surg., One-Hundred-and-Twenty-Sixth New York Vols. 



Point op Rocks, Va., May 30th, 1865. 
Hospital Steward Thomas Powell, 

Miss 3. E. Bueklin having been nurse for three months in 
the ward under my charge at Point of Rocks, I take pleasure 
in recommending her as a faithful, kind and industrious 
woman. I always found her attentive to the wants of the 
afflicted, and an upright and moral young lady. 

A. C. Fox, 
A. A. Surgeon, United States Army. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER L 

KECESSITT FOR 'WOMAK's WORK — WHT WE WEKT IHTO HOSPITALS — THB 
HEROES OF THE BATTLES — EAGER TO GO — ANSWERING QUESTIONS — THE 
WAY OPENED — ACCEPTED — INSTRUCTIONS — THE JOURNEY TO WASHING- 
TON — THE SLEEPING SOLDIER — THE WEARY CAVALRYMAN — THE CAVER- 
NOUS DEPOT — WAITING AMIDST STRANGERS — THE TUMBLER OF WATER — 
SAD SIGHTS — A SHRINKING SOUL — REPORTING TO MISS DIX-^ASSIGNED 
TO DUTY 33 



CHAPTER II. 

JUDICIARY SQUARE HOSPITAL — WEAK FLESH AND TIMID HEART — TRYING 
TO REST — THE GRIM HORROR — MINGLED SOUNDS — "DINNER FOR THE 
ladies" — THE DEAD-HOUSE — THE BLOODY CLOTH — A FAITHFUL NURSE 
— INTRODUCTION TO THE WARD — STRENGTH FROM ABOVE — THE WEARY 
NIGHT — DREAMS OF TERROR — THE SCENE CHANGED — FIRST WORK IN 
THE HOSPITAL — THE GRATEFUL HEARTS — THE BLIND BOY — ON THE 
AWFUL FIELD — EXCHANGED — THE FATHER'S VISIT — THE PATRIOTIC 

SOUL „ , „ 47 



CHAPTER III. 

THE WOUNDED MEN — OUR DUTIES — FALLING UTTO THE WORK — HOMB 
WELL-NIGH FORGOTTEN — RED TAPE — FORAGING FOR RATIONS — THB 
STRANGE APPARITION — A LECTURE ON DUTIES — ARRESTED — UNDER 
THE TRIAL — ANTICIPATING SENTENCE — A JOYFUL REPRIEVE — WASH- 
ING DISHES — THE END OF THE SCENE — DISTRIBUTING LUXURIES — THE 
CHANGE — NO MURMURING « ....« , 57 



10 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER IV. 

THIETEETifTH STREET HOSPITAL — THE FAMIUAB CHIME — GOOD QTJAETEES — 
GOING TO THE WASH-EOOM — THE TOILING CONTEABANDS — THE MILDEWED 
CLOTHING — THE UNCLEAN WOEK — A LITTLE LOTH — A DAY OF BEST — 
CLEAN BEDS AND CHANGES — A HOSPITiJ. SI7ESE — NOT FOR THE GAIN — A 
TRIUMPHANT DEATH — TEARING UP — ^PEEPAEATIONS FOE A BATTLE — THE 
GENEROUS HAND — A WEABY WAITINO — THE VISIT TO ALEXANDEIA — AT 
LAST 65 



CHAPTER V. 

INDIAN 3UMMEE — MOUNT VEENON — THE BEAUTIFUL SHORES — POINT LOOK- 
OUT — RIVER AND BAT — THE CLUSTERING COTTAGES — DREAMING BY THE 
■WAVES — THE PINE GEOVE — THE GLOOMY "WARD — MOVED INTO THE SUN- 
SHINE — SNUFFING SEA BREEZES — THE CORPS OF NURSES — SISTERS OF 
CHARITY — RENOUNCING HER FAITH — THE HOSPITAL FORCE — " FALL IN 
TO dinner" — THE LOWING HEED — SAMPLE EOLLS — COLD QUAETEES — 
NUMBED FINGERS — LONG NIGHTS — OUR RATIONS — THE LOST CHILDREN — 
THE CONTRABANDS — BUEROWING LIKE BEASTS — REDEEMED 75 



CHAPTER VI. 

THANKSGIVING — THE NOTE — THOUGHTS OP FRIENDS — THE BATTLE^ 
ELEVEN HUNDRED WOUNDED — DRESSING THE WOUNDS — HOME ! THE ONE 
THOUGHT OF THE SOUL — MOTHER AND WIFE — THE VISION — HOME-SICK- 
NESS — THE NEW WARD — MAKING SMOOTH PATHS — ARBITRARY REMOVALS 
—CHANGING SURGEONS — THE STOLEN RATIONS — SENDING FOE STORES — 
PLEADING IN VAIN — 0T8TEES AND APPLE-PIE 86 



CHAPTER VII. 

BEING EELIEVED— THE ORDEB COUNTERMANDED — ANOTHER RELIEF — 
AGAIN COUNTERMANDED — THE ANGRY OFFICIAL — THE DUTCH STEWARD 
— "VAT ISH DIS" — ^THB ITALIAN OFFICER — CURED — THE GRANITE 

HEART — BRINGING CORPSES — TIME SPEEDING THE SNOW STORM— 

SOMEWHAT DIMMED — UNHOLY DEEDS — THE DROWNED — THE ROBBER 
HANDS 96 



CONTENTS. 11 

CHAPTER VIII. 

AN ALLURING SPOT — BTTEKSIDE'S FLEET — DIED FOE HIS COUNTKY— 
WAKING TO THE REAL — MY LITTLE FRIEND — THE UNREAD LETTERS — 
DEAD — UNDER THE PINES — THE WAVE-WASHED CEMETERY — " NO 
SOUND CAN AWAKE HIM" — THE UNNATURAL APPETITE — WIDOWED 
AND FATHERLESS — ANOTHER DEAD — NOT PROFESSIONAL REGRET — THE 
DISTRESSED MOTHER — GETTING A DISCHARGE — GONE — THE LAST DEATH 
— THE NEW MATRON — MASCULINE CONTEMPT — SOME SUBTILE POWER — 
THE PET BLACKS — EBONY LUMPS — BITTER FEELINGS — GENUINE DEVO- 
TION — SOUNDED — NO DEPTH — BELIEVED — SAYING "GOOD-BY" — THE 
SLEEPING BOY — ON THE POTOMAC — SPRING'S FIRST SIGNALS — UN- 
FEIGNED SURPRISE — A SNATCH OF REPOSE 105 



CHAPTER IX. 

WOLF- STREET HOSPITAL — LITTLE TO DO — DOING LITTLE — CONFISCATED 
BUILDINGS — BEAUTIFUL SCENES — A FAULTLESS EXTERIOR — INSIDE 
VIEWS — THE doctor's MESS — THE HALF-DONE ROAST — GROWING WEAK 
— TROUBLED DREAMS — GOVERNMENT RATIONS — " DON't YOU HEAR THE 
BELLS a' ringing" — THE STEWARD'S SPY — VISITING FORT ELLSWORTH — 
THE PLUM PIE — DRIVING FROM THE SERVICE — OCCASIOJJAL NURSES — MY 
WORK — THE DISPENSARY STEWARD — THE HAUNTED CORNER — A MUR- 
DEREE , 119 



CHAPTER X. 

spring's EETUES — STOCKADED — THE EXPLOSION AT THE FORT — LIGHT- 
NING TRAIN — CHANCELLORVILLE — TIED FROM THE WORK — THE MAR- 
SHALL HOUSE — THE YOUNG MARTYR — THE WIFE OF JACKSON — THE 
SLAVE PEN — THE PRIZE BETWEEN THE COMBATANTS — DEGRADED TO 
THE DUST — INJUSTICE — MARKED MEN — THE STAMPEDE FROM THE 
RAILROAD — RELIEVED — BEGGING TO STAY — TWICE TO WASHINGTON — 
THE ARISEN QUESTION — SUPREME BLESSEDNESS — NOT READY FOR HOME 
— FINDING A LODGING PLACE — DISTRIBUTING STORES — THE CAVALRY 
CAMP — THE WOUNDED MAN — NORTHWARD — IN CLOSE PURSUIT — THE 
BLUE AND THE GREY — THE AWFUL CARNAGE — SCENES OF AGONY — 
THE BARRED GATE — OPENED AT LAST — ON THE WAY — MEETING MISS 

Dix 127 



12 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XL 

THE BATTLE TOWK—- MAIMED MEN — TS THEIB PRIDE — THE GLORIOUS SAB- 
BATH — THE TEKTED FIELD — BEQIUfNING THE WORK — SANITARY — QET- 
riNG IN ORDER — STRANGE PICNICING MT TENT — DRENCHED CLOTH- 
ING AFTER ALL — THE WOMEN OP GETTYSBURG REBEL WOUNDED — 

FATALITY AMONGST THEM — THE CONTRAST — PRISONERS OF WAR — THE 
SPIRIT OF THE SOUTH — DISCIPLINE — SEEDS SOWN — THE PLASH OF WATER- 

139 
CHAPTER XII. 

ORGANIZING THE HOSPITAL — ASSIGNED TO DUTY — HUNGRY AND WEARY — 
REMEMBERED — THE CHRISTIAN COMMISSION — AMONGST THE GREYS— 
THE SICK VOLUNTEER NURSE — HEATING WATER — WIVES AND MOTHERS — 
THE YOUNG HERO — THE PENNSYLVANIA MOTHER — THE BRAVE WIFE — 
IN THE AGONY OF SUFFERING — RELEASED IN MERCY — NO HELP FOR THE 
BEBELS — THE HEROIC MOTHER — ELEVEN WOUNDS — "MORE! MOEe!" — 
THE SIEAMINQ FOX-PI£ 151 



CHAPTER XIII. 

rebel WARDS — NEW BECRUITS — FILLING THE BEDS — FRACTURED THIGHS — 
WELCOME INSTANT DEATH — THE AWFUL END — ROTTED AWAY — THE 
LITTLE ORDERLY — PORT AT LAST — THE CONVENIENT SEASON — SUDDEN 
DEATH — THE GREYBACKS — THE DYING CHRISTIAN — A BRIGHT DEATH- 
BED — TOO LATE — SORRY COMFORT — AN INTERESTING GROUP — THE 
BLOODT PILLOW 161 



CHAPTER XIV. 

FLEETING SUMMER — HURRYING TO AND FRO — THE ROUND OP DUTY — 
SCRAPS — THE HARD REFUSAL — ^WITH FIXED BAYONETS — THE HUMANE 
BURGEON — WHISKY BARREL — PETER BROCK — "l SHALL BE PROUD IP 
TOU RAISE HIM " — THE GETTYSBURG CHOIR — MICHIGAN STATE AGENT — 
DR. WINSLOW — MAKING PADS AND PILLOWS — " USE ALL YOU WANT " — ■ 
BEOOMMENDING FOR A PENSION — FLOWERS — THE OLD HERO OF GETTYS- 
BURG — THE GETTYSBURG MAIDEN — AT THE STORE 171 



'CONTENTS. 13 

CHAPTER XV. 

THE NEW WARD — TWO DEATHS — IN THE NEW CEMETERY — POISONED TO 
DEATH — "it's all UP WITH ME NOW "—FRIED CAKES— THE PIOXICS— 

LIBERAL DONATIONS— PLANTING THE FLAG THE NEW ORDER- HOT 

MILK AND COLD MILK— " BUT I MUST HAVE BOTH" — ENLIGHTENED 

"TOUR NAME, MADAM " — THE SHADOW OF RELIEF 180 

CHAPTER XVI. 

THE FIELD OP BATTLE — THE EVIDENCE OP DES'JRUCTION- THE FADED 
ARMY BLUE — GLEAMING SKULLS— A BLOODY HORROR- THE PITS OF 
DEATH— THE RAIN OF DEATH— FRIEND AND FOE— THROUGH DENSE 
WOODS— TORN TURF— LOPPED TREE BOUGHS— GRAVES OF THE SLAIN— 

ONE AUTUMN DAY — THE QUIVERING OF THE FLESH — ALLURING PATHS 

BATTLE RELICS— WHITE CLOUDS — THECRICKET's CHIRP—" FINISHED" 

— THE MOONLESS NIGHT — BREAKING UP — MY OCCUPATION GONE 

DEDICATION OF THE NATIONAL CEMETERY— THE LAST VISIT— LEAVING 

• 187 



GETTYSBURG., 



CHAPTER XVII. 

THE CAVALRY POST HOSPITAL— A BOX OP LUXURIES— CHILLED TO THE 
BONE— ASSIGNED TO NEW DUTIES— CAMP STONEMAN— THE OLD BROWN 
HOUSE— THE JEALOUS NURSE— THE EXTEMPORIZED COOKING UTENSILS 
—GREAT POWERS OF ENDURANCE— PLENTY TO EAT— TANGLED THORNS 
—NIGH TO DEATH— "MARY, STAY WITH ME TO-DAY !"— THE MIDNIGHT 
WATCH— " HOW COULD YOU LEAVE ME ALL ALONE!"— THE GOOD SLEEP 
— GONE HOME AT LAST ^89 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE DYING HUSBAND— A PURSE FOR THE WIDOW— MT UNFINISHED WORK 
—THE TEA AND TOAST— THE ROUGH SURGEON— IDLE HANDS— SO WEARY 

— woman's PRESENCE— rapid RECOVERY — TAKING UP THE WORK 

EXTRAORDINARY CONFUSION— ST. ELIZABETH'S HOSPITAL— MORTALITY 
TENT— SUDDEN DEATH— A DISTRESSING CASE— " MY SISTERS COULD NOT 
DO MORE FOR ME "—MOVING THE WARD— NEW WHITE DISHES— MY NEW 
QUARTERS— THE WASTING ENERGIES — A RAGING FEVER 207 



14 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

THE BED OF 8TEAW — ^DEEADFITL PANOIES — PLEADING TO LIVE — " DON't 
SEITD MB away" — MY ATTENDANTS — TYPHOID FEVER — A HELPLESS 
BEING — GIVEN UP TO DIE — THE CONTEST WITH DEATH — LIFE VIGTOBI- 
OtTS — ONLY ONE CALL — KINDLY EEMEMBERED — WASHING UNDER DIFFI- 
CULTIES — CHANGING SCENES — THE CAVALRY DRILL — THE CORRALS — 
THE STAMPEDE — A PROVIDENTIAL INTERPOSITION — DEAD HORSES — A 
PITIFUL SIGHT — WARP OF A ROMANCE — THE IRON MAN — LONGING FOR 
STRENGTH — AN HUMBLE HOSPITAL NURSE — THE INEVITABLE SACRIFICE 
— " ON fame's ETERNAL CAMPING GROUND " — THE WRECK OF REASON — 
FAB MOB£ SOBBOWFWIi 218 



CHAPTER XX. 



A VISIT — A REPRIMAND — THE SANITARY HOME — SENT FOR — A FULL 
BASKET — THE SUSPICIOUS NURSE — MRS. GEORGE — SUNNY WEATHER — 
THE DOOR BARRED — HOMESICK AND DESPONDING — MOANING FOR HOME 
— "oh! mother, my MOTHER, WHY DON't YOU COME?" — SERVED THREE 
TEARS — DEAD — " It's NO FAULT OF MINE, IF I AM " — NO MEDICINE FOR 
EYES — A DARKENED EARTH — THE SUFFERING FAMILY — ^A FAIR YOUNG 
FACE — "thine is THE GLORY " — THE ETERNAL REST — NEITHER BRUISE 
NOR WOUND — PLAYING OFF — COWARDLY MEN — A HARD NECESSITY — THE 
NIQHX QUABD — THE GHOSTLY PEESENCE — STUMBLING OVER THE DEAD. 

228 



CHAPTER XXI. 

NO BLOSSOMS — THE BLIGHT OF WAR — GEORGE HOLIER — THE WIFE — 
TEMPTED BY THE FIEND — INDIGNANT SCORN — RETURNING HOME — "IF 
YOU WERE A man" — THE TIGER ROUSED — ONE WAY OF ESCAPE — FOR 
DUTY ELSEWHERE — THE FAREWELL VISIT — SILENT PARTING — THE 
RETURN OF MBS. EOLIEE — "SHE CAN HAVE HIM NOW" — BROKEN- 
HEARTED — LEAVING CAMP STONEMAN — THE PURCHASE — THE FEAT OF 
MILLINERY — THE EARLY WALK — WAITING FOR THE BOAT — AN EMPTY 
STOMACH — GETTING DINNER — THE JOURNEY — A CROWDED CABIN — ONE 
WAY OF RELIEF — MAKING A LANDING 239 



CONTENTS. 15 

CHAPTER XXII. 



WHITE HOUSE LANDINO — EARTHED ALIVE — ABMY SUPPLIES — STEAiraE 
CONFUSION — "BRESS DE LORD, WE IS FREE!" — MRS. FOGO's AMBULANCE 
— REPORTING FOR DUTY — CHILLY PROSPECTS — GETTING THE BLANKETS 

— NO SUPPER — ON THE BARE GROUND — PICKET FIRING MORNING AT 

LAST — ASKING FOR FOOD "NOT ONE MOUTHFUL" — A NOBLE WOMAN 

— NOT IN VAIN — GOOD SOFT BREAD — MRS. BRAINABD — THE ARMFUL OF 
BREAD — LOVELY JUNE DAYS — MAKING READY — MY COUNTRY'S SOLDIER 
— AWFUL SIGHTS — FOUB DYING MEN 248 



CHAPTER XXIII. 



PRECIOUS MOMENTS — THE ITEW YORK STATE AGENT — SCANTY SUPPLIES — 
SOMETHING TO EAT — THE DREAM OF PLENTY — BAKED PORK AND BEANS 

GETTING SOME FOOD — MAKING BISCUIT — "DO GIVE ME SOME!" — THE 

ONE-ARMED SOLDIER — BOBBING A DISABLED MAN— OFF ON THE TRANS- 
PORTS — JOURNEY OF TORMENT — ABLE-BODIED SOLDIERS — TO THE 
FRONT — REBEL PRISONERS — THE AGED CONTRABAND — " WE WON'T 
SHOOT YANKEES ANY MORE" — THE DYING BOY — ALONE TO DIE — TEAR- 
ING UP THE PLANT — RIPE FOB THE REAPER — A FEAST OF BEAUTY — 
WOUNDED UNTO DEATH — BEPEOACHES — PURGED OF SELFISHNESS — DAY 
AND NIGHT , 257 



CHAPTER XXIV. 



THE AMPUTATING TENT— ONLY A GENERAL CARE — THE FIRST AND LAST 
CRY — death's carnival — A PINT OF WORMS — ON THE TRANSPORTS — 

"WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU, TO-DAY?" — FEASTING FASTING FED BY 

MRS. SPENCER — GETTING THE PIE — A DRINK OF CLEAR COLD WATER — 
THE SICK NURSE — DREADFUL CASES — BREAKING CAMP — WAITING FOR 
ORDERS — "THE REBS ABE COMING!" — ACROSS THE COUNTRY — PUTTING 
UP A LUNCH — DEFERRED HOPE— THE DISAPPEARING LUNCH — A BOX OF 
SUPPLIES — A CHANGED SCENE — THE SPIRITS OF BRAVE MEN 268 



16 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XXV. 

LEAVIHQ WHITE HOUSE — ON THE 'WRONQ BOAT — KO EATIONS — ANCHORING 

FOE THE NIGHT — A LOVELY MORNING PLOUGHING THROUGH MEADOWS 

— HOW HUNGER GNAWED US — GRAND ARMY OF THE REPUBLIC — THE 
PASSAGE OF THE RIVER — PORK, CRACKERS, AND COFFEE — DISASTROUS 
ATTEMPTS — THE CHOICE OF TWO EVILS — ON OUR OWN BARGES — RATIONS 
— CITY POINT — CONFUSION AGAIN — A NEW COOK — A SAVORY MEAL — TO 
WAIT — THE COLORED WOUNDED — THE MARCH — "HALt!" — HOSPITAL 
GROUND — THE WELCOME TENTS — DEW DROPS EVERYWHERE — -IN THE 
CORN — PROSPECTS OF A FAST — " I THINK I HAVE FOUND A BARREL OP 
pork" — THE FILTHY OLD STRETCHER — " THE WOUNDED ARE COMING!" 
— THE SABBATH — THE VISITOBS 277 



CHAPTER XXVL 

THE SECOND CORPS — FORTY DATS AND ITIGHTS — DEATH A MERCIFUL RE- 
LEASE — soldiers' FARE — BAD RATIONS — ABSOLUTE STARVATION — 
MOULDY, WORMY CRACKERS — SLEEPLESS NIGHTS — SOME ONE TO BLAME 
— THE BEARLIKE SURGEON — THE CONFERENCE — A PROMISE — GOING TO 
WASHINGTON WITH THE WOUNDED — THE THUNDER-STORM — THE ANGEL 
OF DEATH — A DROWNED MAN — THE STARK CORPSE — DRESSING THE 
WOUNDS — UNLOADINO — A CUP OS TEA — THE MAETYE NUESE 289 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

EETUUNING TO CITY POINT — THE LOVELY LANDSCAPE — OVERBOARD — 
SAVED — butler's HEADQUARTERS — THE CANNONADING CHANGING SUR- 
GEONS — THE SANITARY STOVE — A STANDING ORDER — A NEW ASPECT — 

THE STREAMING LIGHTS — THE WASH SQUAD CLOCK WORK — PLENTY OP 

FOOD — FEELING SECURE — EXTRAS — A VISIT FROM MISS DIS — SEASON- 
ABLE PRESENTS — THE LITTLE CART — REPORTED TO THE SURGEON DAILY 
— " don't talk to THOSE WOMEN " — THE NEW NURSE — HER COMPLAINTS 

SILENCED — DEPARTURE OP MISS BALLARD GOING TO WASHINGTON — 

DIVINE SERVICES— THE PROMISE OP EVERLASTING LIFE — THE BAPTISM 
OF BLOOD 298 



CONTENTS. 17 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

PUTTING A MAN ITT THE GITARD-HOUSE — THE DRUITKEjr SOLDIER — THE 
PRESENT — COMPELLED TO GIVE INFORMATION — " OH ! IT COULD NOT 
HAVE BEEN YOU " — TWO WOUNDED REBELS — THE PEACEFUL DEATHS — 
A LOYAL VIRGINIAN — THE TOMATOES — " NO, NOT IF HE DIES FOR THE 
WANT OF THEM " — A YANKEE WIFE — TERRIBLY MUTILATED — SAD CASES 
— THE SUICIDE — NO LACK OF COURAGE — UNKNOWN — THE DEAD BODY — 
DUTCH GAP — THE EXPLOSION — THE NARROW ESCAPE — A CLEAR PATH. 

308 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

autumn's SIGNS — DR. BURMEISTER'S RETURN — THE UNWELCOME CHANGE — 
WORMY CRACKERS — KEEPING MEN EMPLOYED— »BEGGING FOR CRACKERS 

A SERIES OF TRIALS — A BOX OF GRAPES — THE VISIT FROM MISS DIX — 

ENLIGHTENED ON SOME POINTS — THE ANGERED NURSE — LEFT TO THEIR 
MERCY — A CALL FROM THE SURGEON — TAKING THE STORES — KEEPING 
BACK THE RATIONS — LEFT ALONE — THE LAST RESORT — GOING TO THE 
EITLE-PITS — THE TARGET — A NIGHT RIDE — THE ESCORT 318 



CHAPTER XXX. 

GEN. GRANT — RECEIVING A PASS — GOING TO WASHINGTON — VISITING CAMP 
STONEMAN — PURCHASING A STOVE — RETURNING WITH TWO NURSES — 
BELIEVED — WASHING OUR CLOTHES — RAINING IN TORRENTS — THE UN- 
GRACIOUS REPLY — GOING TO POINT OF ROCKS — A BRIGHT DAY — WEL- 
COME RECEPTION — PROSPECT OF A NIGHT IN THE GUARD-HOUSE — SWEET 
SLEEP — LEAVING CITY POIHT — FAVORABLE TO THE WOUNDED 326 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

POINT OF ROCKS HOSPITAL — THE AFFRIGHTED CLERGYMAN — THE RECEIV- 
ING WARDS— THE ARMY OF THE JAMES — HOSPITAL SUPPLIES — A DROVE 
OF COWS — TWO MEALS A DAY — THE SANITARY COMMISSION — GINGER 

TEA THE GENEROUS AGENT — NOVEMBER WEATHER — GOING FOR MY 

STOVE— INTENSE COLD — ICE EVERYWHERE — TEACHING THE WOUNDED — 

2 



18 CONTENTS. 

THE CHEISTIAN COMMISSION — READING TO THE COLORED SOLDIERS— 
"jest as IP WE HAD WHITE FACES, MISSUS " — A MODEL HOSPITAL — 
OHBISTMAS AND SEW-YEAB'S DAT 332 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

A EiaHTEOUS DEATH — THE BURIAL — THE FROZEN FEET — GETTING A FUR- 
LOUGH — A DUSKY NAMESAKE — THE CONSUMPTIVE — SENT TO THE FRONT 
— ^A TOUNG VIRGINIAN — THE NEW WARD MASTER — BEGGING IN THE 
STREETS — ANOTHER FURLOUGH — THE PURSE — THE PAYMASTER— GOING 
HOME — A SUFFERING FAMILY — RETURNED PRISONERS — AWFUL SUFFEB- 
ISQ — ^BETTER THE SHOCK OP BATTLE — TWICE A PEISONEB 339 



. CHAPTER XXXIII. 

DEDICATION OF THE WARDS — "COME THOU FOUNT OF EVERT BLESSING" — 
PERSONAL ADVENTURES — SENTENCED TO DEATH — CONFRONTING THE 
FIRING PARTY — PARDONED— LAID OUT TO DIE — RETURN OF SPRING — 
THE LINEN ROOM — NEW QUARTERS — THE WASH-HOUSE — THE IRONING 
GIRLS — THE REFRACTORY CONTRABAND — BROUGHT UP BY THE GUARD — 

THE WEDDING " GOING WHERE THE CORPORAL DOES " — TAKING 

STROLLS — THE SIGNAL STATION — BOMB PROOFS — TRIED TO BREAK OUR 
LINES 346 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

AN IMMENSE QAEDEN — VALUABLE MATERIAL — A LARGE FAMILY — " THE 
DAY OF JUBILEE " — AUNT ADELINE — HER FREEDOM DIED WITH HIM — 
THE PIOUS CONTRABAND — THE INVITATION — NIGHTFALL — WITH PEACH 

OR CHERRY STONES — THE REGIMENTAL DOG THE MISSPENT LIFE THE 

GOLD WATCH — ^BEGGING FOR UNDERCLOTHING — STEALING SUPPLIES.. 353 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

SENT TO THE REAR — CLOUDS OF WAR — PONTOON BRIDGES — DOWN TO THE 

LANDING THE LINES OF BLUE — ORDERED TO DISMOUNT — THE BAT'lLE 

EEGUN — IN FEVERISH EXCITEMENT — FALL OF PETERSBURG ON TO THE 

REBEL CAPITAL — THE CONrLAGB.\TION — FIGHTING A TJEW FOE — TOOK 



CONTENTS. 19 

THEIE PLACES — DREADFUL DEEDS — A MUTILATED BODY — THE WOUNDED 
POUBING IN — DISTBIBUTING OBANGES — SUEEENDEB OF LEE — THB DYING 
SOLDIEE — VISIT FROM ABBAHAM LINCOLN — NEWS OF THE AS4AIWINA- 
TION — DARKNESS UPON CUB LAND , 358 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

GOING UP TO WASHINGTON— THE ACTIVE SEARCH — FUNERAL DRAPERY — 
FOETBESS MONEOE — MY COLORED FRIENDS — AT THE FORT — THE GEAVE 
OF AUNTY ALEXANDER — ONLY THBEE FAMILIAB FACES — A VISIT TO THE 
FBONT — A VAIN SEAECH — A WEETCHED ABODE — EEBEL WOMEN — WARM- 
ING OURSELVES — A ROUGH ROAD— CALL FROM " SEOESH " WOMEN — THE 
IlfDEPENDENT CONTRABANDS — MUSLINS AND FURS — RELIEVING THE 
CONFEDERATE SOLDIERS — EAGER TO TELL, 364 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 

VISIT TO PETERSBURG — THE REBEL DEFENCES — DAMAGED STREETS — RE- 
JOICED THAT THE WAR WAS ENDED — A LOVELY FLOWER GARDEN — 
HEADQUARTERS OF GEN. LEE — THE LAST FORT — THE SANDY FOUNDA- 
TION — VISIT TO RICHMOND — BOX CARS — THE DELAY — SOME OF OUR MEN 
—CASTLE THUNDER — LIBBY PRISON — THE HOLE IN THE FLOOR — OUR 
ACCOMMODATIONS — THE REBEL CAPITOL — TAKING THE OATH — WANTED 
A PAROLE — EAQQED, DIETY, AND BAREFOOTED— POVERTY APPARENT. 

369 

CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

SATISFIED WITH EIOHMOND — PASSING DUTCH GAP — GETTING READY TO 
LEAVE — REACHING THE HOSPITAL — THE INSTRUCTIONS — THE RAIN 
STORM — THE SHELTER — LEAVING POINT OF ROCKS — REBEL COMPANY — 
THE ORDERS — NURSING THE "GOOD JOB" — GOING HOME — MEMORIES — 
THE PARTING WORDS — "THEY HAVE COME" — ^AT MY OLD WORK — NOT 
BLOOD-STAINED 376 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Feontispibcb. page 

In Hospital jlsd Caicp -..„, m 42 

Judiciary Square Hospital 60 

United States Cavalry Depot hbab Washihqton 76 

Going into Winter Quarters 90 

Chapel of the Christian Commission 108 

The Arsenal at Harper's Feeey 122 

To the Dead House 142 

To the Grave 142 

The Little Knolls 142 

The Field Hospital 154 

Receiving the News op the Capture op Fort Fishee 176 

The Harvest op Death, Gettysburg, July 4th, 1863 192 

Military Execution near City Point, January 27th, 1865 210 

General Grant's Headquaetees at City Point 224 

The Hospital Tents 242 

The Union Army Entering Petersburg, Va., April 3d, 1865 260 

Our Army Entering Richmond 274 

House in -which Gen. Leb Signed the Teems op Surrender 296 

Castle Thunder 312 

LiBBY Prison 312 

Rebel Soldiers Taking the Oath op Alleqiancb 328 

The Chivaley Drawing theib Rations 350 

President Lincoln's Funeral Peooessioh 366 



For the designs of the above we are indebted to the courtesy of Messrs. Har- 
per & Brothers, New York. 



20 



INTRODUCTION. 



Amongst that band of noble women, who served 
their country in hospital and camp during the late 
gigantic struggle with rebellion, the heroine of the 
following pages justly deserves a foremost place. 
Others went out with like patriotism warming 
their hearts, but the toils and hardships, which 
made the position of hospital nurse anything but 
pastime, sent many of them back to their com- 
fortable homes — the romance of soldiering sadly 
crushed out of their hearts. 

Yet sickness, nor starvation, nor daily contact 
with loathsome diseases, and hideous wounds 
could alter the purpose of our heroine to stand 
by the boys in blue, till the bloody conflict was 
ended. Not till the heart of the nation beat free 
from the coils of the serpent which enwrapped it 
with such deadly persistence, did she feel herself 
at liberty, and willing to go home. 

For nearly three long years she led the life of 
an actual soldier. She partook of their rude fare, 

21 



22 INTRODUCTION. 

lived under unsubstantial tents, shared their 
weary marches to new hospital grounds, from 
the transports on which they had been borne over 
river and bay, starving through long days and 
nights of waiting, sick from exposure to the sun 
and dews : in all things, save the wild, deadly 
charges of battle, A true Soldier of the Union. 

It has been said, when the work of those 
women who came out under the patronage of the 
Commissions was placed in contrast with that of 
the Government nurse, that, while the former 
worked voluntarily, the latter had her pay and 
rations. Pay and i-ations! — twelve dollars a 
month and soldiers' fare — themselves to clothe 
from the bountiful allowance; and, withal, the 
privilege of attending upon men sick with putrid 
wounds, their torn and filthy uniforms in worse 
condition than that of the saddest beggar who 
crawls in the by-ways of a crowded city ! So did 
the common soldier receive, for his chances of the 
dangers of active warfare, a price and his sub- 
sistence ; but who questions the loyalty or bravery 
of those men in their worn shrouds of blue, around 
whose shattered bones to-day the tangled grass- 
roots of Southern battle fields weave their intri- 
cate net- work? Who says, because they were 
paid, the sacrifice which they laid on their 



INTRODUCTION. 23 

country's smoking altar was not a voluntary 
blood-offering? Who says, because they were 
furnished subsistence, and were clad, that they 
died not to save the glorious Union, interposing 
their mangled, bleeding bodies to hold back the 
tide of anarchy and destruction, which else would 
have rolled in one resistless wave over the hills 
and valleys of the North ? 

Many women, possessed of independent means, 
were enabled, under the patronage of the Com- 
missions, and under pretence of aiding the work 
in the hospitals, to behold the grandeur of the 
Capitol, and gratify a taste for romantic adven- 
ture. But how many of these slept for nights 
under the white cover of a tent, on the bare 
ground, and suffered the pangs of starvation for 
days, while they bent over the festering wounds 
of dying men ? How many endured the horrible 
sights of mangled bodies, just brought in by the 
ambulance trains from the gory sods, whereon 
they fell when the foe met them ? 

The well-ordered hospital, in which every sight 
which might shock a- sensitive nature was care- 
fully hidden — where lemonades, and jellies, and 
fruits, and flowers could, at fixed hours, be distri- 
buted by their fair hands — loas not the field 
hospital, into which men were brought direct 



24 INTRODUCTION. 

from the awful place of carnage, with the dirt of 
rifle pits mingling with their own gore, unable to 
meet nature's demands, with worms rioting over 
the putrifying flesh. Yet, it was in the field 
hospitals that Miss Bucklin did her greatest work. 
One of the first at Gettysburg; the first at White 
House Landing, before the white wings of a single 
tent fluttered over the grass-grown field, so soon 
to be a trampled waste, and haunted by the ghosts 
of agonized men, whose souls went up from its 
sod; and with the first at City Point, when the 
open field lay waiting its transformation into one 
of the grandest hospitals which was established 
during the war — she shrunk from no hardships if, 
thereby, she might minister to the wants of some 
who were very nigh to death, and whose feet 
seemed upon the brink of the soundless river. 

In the long transit from White House to City 
Point, when the passage of the Grand Army of the 
Potomac, at Charles City, obstructed their journey 
up the river — on board a boat, without shelter or 
rations, for days she endured the excessive heat 
of the June sunshine, and the chilling dews of the 
Southern nights, with no thought of availing her- 
self of the privilege, which she had at any time, 
of returning home to comfort and plenty. 

While in the service, the insolence of shoulder- 



INTRODUCTION. 25 

strapped officials, and their tyranny, was borne in 
silence, lest, at a murmur from her lips, the work 
which was in her hands would be taken from her, 
and she be shut out from her good work among 
the boys in their wretched need. But now, no 
personal fear of censure, or craving of favor has 
induced her to speak of such officials in any terms 
but those of strictest truth. She witnessed the 
perpetration of outrages which filled her soul with 
horror, while the perpetrators, oft times, continued 
in position as well as in favor. Men were only 
men in the army as out of it, and the conscious- 
ness of holding a little brief authority made many 
a little soul a tyrant on his narrow beat. It was 
not in the power of Government to regulate this 
evil, and it was endured in sullen silence by the 
soldiers, and with indignant but suppressed rage 
by the women, who were powerless to stay the 
unbridled brute force. Over the imbittered 
memory of many scenes of such inhumanity, it is 
impossible to wrap the mercy of utter silence for- 
ever. 

Not once during the term for which she served 
did she avail herself of the offer of a journey 
home to recruit and rest. Her life was there^ 
whore so many yielded up their lives ; her heart 
could not separate itself from the wounded men in 



26 INTRODUCTION. 

blue, whose number increased alike with victory 
or defeat. She could not have fallen back into 
the old life of comfort, knowing that noble men 
were suffering and dying for the need of woman's 
help. Her patriotism was of that obdurate nature 
which could have crowned the offering with her 
own life, if, in yielding it, her country's cause 
might be the better served. 

At all times a faithful and consistent worker, she 
won the esteem of the Superintendent of Women 
Nurses, and endeared herself to those who, in 
their weakness, but for her willing hands, must 
have gone untended and uncomforted into the 
shadows of the dark valley. Waking from need- 
ful slumber, at Gettysburg, we find her busy 
through the night preparing a lunch for a squad 
of convalescing men, who were to be sent off on 
the morrow. Again we find her taking from her 
own tent even the bare bedstead, on which she 
had slept, to exchange it with the Sanitary Com- 
mission for a cot, on which one of the maimed 
heroes of that great fight might be borne in com- 
parative comfort to another hospital. 

And her interest in these men went not out 
even after she had carefully arranged the pads 
and pillows under their aching limbs — placed 
a lunch close at their hand, and amidst long and 



INTRODUCTION. 27 

repeated protestations of gratitude, answered the 
farewell wave of the hand, and heard the scream 
of the locomotive as it sped out of the battle town, 
bearing them to new scenes and new^ mercies ; for 
letters were constantly received and answered— 
on the one hand giving the details of the journey, 
and telling the faithful nurse, in homely but 
expressive words, how comfortable her provisions 
nad made the otherwise toilsome transit; on the 
other, expressing solicitude and prayerful concern 
in behalf of their speedy recovery. Scores of 
letters now lie before me, written out of the grati- 
tude of noble hearts, thanking Miss Bucklin again 
and again for the kind care which had proved the 
salvation of their mortal bodies. One illiterate 
scrawl, thanking her for her interest in obtaining 
a furlough for the writer, and blessing her for the 
happiness which was then resting over himself 
and wife and the new born babe, on consultation, 
was found to be the effort of one of her colored 
patients from Point of Rocks. 

But it is impossible to make anything like a 
satisfactory selection from them, when all are 
alike expressive of gratefulness, and alike invoke 
blessings on the unselfish heart which could so 
crucify itself for the welfare of the boys in their 
worn and faded blue. A volume would not suffice 



28 INTRODUCTION. 

to hold them in full, and mere fragmentary ex- 
tracts would unfairly express the feelings pervading 
a letter, when the writer's heart is surcharged with 
thankfulness. Like the diamond dew-drops which 
are threaded over the grasses in early summer 
mornings, the expressions of gratefulness pervade 
every line, and like the quivering dew-drops when 
shaken together into a chalice, though bright and 
sparkling still, yet they lose the scintillant radi- 
ance of the slender grass stem, making it worth 
the ransom of a king. 

I find confidential notes from Miss Dix, show- 
ing that she knew the value of the hospital nurse 
she had trusted ; letters from sister nurses, who 
had shared her tent, and knew from their own ex- 
periences, the hardships which beset her pathway 
like jacged rocks and thorns ; long communications 
from her soldier hoys, who, transferred to other 
hospitals, still languished on sick beds, and 
yearned for her willing care, and epistles from 
fathers, and mothers, and sisters, and wives whose 
beloved ones had with their lives gone to meet 
the common enemy. Each is stamped with the 
writer's individuality, some evincing scholarly 
polish, some written with hands unused to the 
pen, hardly legible, yet bearing upon it the 
sincere feelings of the full heart which indited it. 



INTRODUCTION. 29 

Thus we leave them, well knowing that all over 
the land brave ones will rise up to say, " She saved 
my life, I can never forget her ; she was my sister 
when friends were far away — my mother when the 
bosom that nourished me was torn with anguish 
for her son, yet could not stand beside him. All 
honor to the noble self-sacrificing women who en- 
dured hardships and privations for our sake, that 
we might be strong to save the Union." 

The records are few of that undaunted band, 
who, as Government nurses, gave themselves just 
as truly to their country as did those who fought 
and died, and found a sepulchre under the bloody 
sods of the South. The many humble women 
with brave hearts and stout hands, who, having 
little beyond the ordinary means of subsistence, 
themselves offered their services to assist in the 
gigantic work of mercy, are at times passed care- 
lessly by, and others — dainty women, whose hands 
were bejeweled, whose garments were of fine tex- 
ture, who could afford the luxury of horses and 
aids in distributing the stores which had been 
poured into the bosom of the Commissions — these 
are among the lauded of the Nation. The women, 
used to toil, counting privation and hunger as the 
price of their devotion to their country's cause 
and its heroes, stand in the same relation to these 



30 INTRODUCTION. 

fair women as do the common soldiers to the well- 
cared for officers who lead them into the swift com- 
bat to die, or to escape with bloody wounds and 
maimed bodies. When work, solid, terrible work 
was to be done, the well-worn hands were put to 
the task. When men groaned under the first 
torture of the knife, when the tents were in- 
sufficient to shelter the agonized multitude, there 
was no shrinking from contact with the bare 
awful reality, and women's nerves learned the 
steadiness which controls the surgeon's hand, 
when bone and muscle and flesh feel the rasp of 
his remorseless instruments. 

All honor to the women who, in their unpre- 
tending garb, saved to us our fathers and brothers 
and sons and husbands. We owe them a debt 
second only to that which is due the fallen heroes 
who sleep in unremembered graves, and whom 
we must not forget, although nature hides away 
the little patch of earth enclosing them. And 
let us hope that, alike with those who survived 
the battle and the prison pen, the constant nurse, 
who wiped the death damps from the brows of 
those we could not reach, and witnessed the 
grateful smile as the light of life flickered away, 
may be remembered and rewarded in substantial 
testimonials of gratitude. 



INTRODUCTION". 31 

It is said that republics are ungrateful, but in 
the progress of events, when the claims of the 
common soldier have been more fully considered, 
then will these noble women, who saved thou- 
sands of common soldiers to fight again for free- 
dom, find their names also inscribed on the long 
Roll of Honor. America can well afford to be 
grateful to every class of her defenders, when from 
the pure patriotism of her striving millions she 
draws the life blood which makes her a power 
amongst the nations of the earth. 

No partizan feelings actuated these workers in 
the cause of humanity. When all over the 
length and breadth of the land the flag of our 
Union floats free in the azure air, no bitter 
thoughts shall rise up to taunt them with neglect 
to the grey uniformed Confederate, groaning on 
the hard hospital bed, a prisoner of war. Alike 
with our boys in blue, they shared the mercies 
which made the hospital nurses seem angels in 
disguise. In many a Southern home, when they 
tell the tale of the fight, and how the Yankee 
bullet had well-nigh found the source of life, they 
speak in tones of gentleness of the untiring nurse 
who watched and bent pityingly over them as 
over a tenderly loved brother. 

The full and clear descriptions of places and 



32 INTRODUCTION. 

incidents in the following work, and the readiness 
with which incident succeeds incident cannot fail 
to convince all of its truthfulness. The imagina- 
tion was neither drawn upon to create pictures, 
nor led to other works for details and facts. The 
scenes are minutely and carefully given, and it 
has been the aim of the author, rather to condense 
than to enlarge them. The book cannot fail to 
absorb the minds of those whose hearts were with 
their dear ones in the long perilous marches, and 
in the awful battles where thousands were slain, 
while to any one whose soul is open to the suf- 
ferings of humanity it will prove a narrative of in- 
tense interest. 

Believing that a correct knowledge of life in the 
military hospitals, can be better attained through 
this impartial work than any other yet published, 
we close a task which from its nature has been 
one of an absorbingly interesting character. 

Trusting that im one will be disappointed in its 
careful perusal, and willing to submit it to the 
fair criticism of each and all, we leave in the 
hands of a discriminating public this record of the 
Hospital and Camp. S. L. C. 



IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 



CHAPTER I. 

NECESSITY FOR WOMAn's WORK — WHY WE WENT INTO 

HOSPITALS THE HEROES OF THE BATTLES — EAGER TO GO 

ANSWERING QUESTIONS — THE WAY OPENED — ACCEPTED 

INSTRUCTIONS — THE JOURNEY TO WASHINGTON — THE 

SLEEPING SOLDIER — THE WEARY CAVALRYMAN — THE 
CAVERNOUS DEPOT — WAITING AMIDST STRANGERS — THE 
TUMBLER OF WATER — SAD SIGHTS — A SHRINKING SOUL — 
REPORTING TO MISS DIX — ASSIGNED TO DUTY. 

When, in the complexity of national affairs, it 
became necessary for armed men to assemble in 
multitudes, to become exposed to the hardships 
and privations of camps and the deadly peril of 
battle fields, there arose the same necessity for 
woman to lend her helping hand to bind up the 
wounds of the shattered soldier, and smooth the 
hard pillow of the dying hero. 

The same patriotism which took the young and 
brave from workshop and ploAv, from counting- 
rooms, and college halls, making up the vast army 
of the loyal North, and sending it forth to conquer, 
after months of conflict, lent also to our hearts its 
thrilHng measure, and sent us out to do and dare 
3 33 



34 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

for those whose strong arms were to retrieve the 
honor of our insulted flag. Because we could not 
don the uniform of the soldier, and follow the beat 
of the stirring drums, we chose our silent journeys 
into hospitals and camps, and there waited for 
the wounded sufferer, who would escape with vital 
breath, from before the belching flames which 
burst forth amid lurid clouds of battle. 

We claim not the meed of high-sounding praise ; 
we ask not crowns of laurel for our brows, while 
the thousands and thousands who suffered and 
died in the same heroic service, and who were laid 
in their gory blue shrouds under the blood mois- 
tened sods of the South, have raised their story 
above the common atmosphere of army hfe, and 
made it a tale to stir the blood in every loyal 
heart to a quicker flow. 

Our work was among every class of men who 
wore the uniforms of soldiers, and they repre- 
sented almost every household in the land. They 
were mainly the bone and sinew of the country, 
and they counted life no loss if in the giving the 
nation's glory could be preserved. Many 

such an one we saw close his eyes in death, while 
our own moistened for those who would never see 
their valiant soldier again. 

. With the picture of horror-strewn slaughter- 
grounds laid vividly before me; with the well- 
wrought details of hospital suffering brought to 
my mind in strong, truthful colors ; with sickness 
and possible death made plain to my vision, when 



EAGER TO GO. 35 

I thought it was my duty to go, if the Govern- 
ment needed me to care for its wounded defenders, 
I said, " I might die if I remain here, if there 
they will give me decent burial, and such care as 
a soldier has — I do not need more." 

And when the question was put if I thought 
myself strong enough to endure all the hardships 
which were inevitable, I said, " K any woman has 
done this, / can," and felt the warm blood surgmg 
through my heart, every throb of which was 
beating for my country, and urging me to add my 
mite in comforting her sworn protectors. 

From the day on which the boom of the first 
cannon rolled over the startled waters in Charles- 
ton harbor, it was my constant study how I could 
with credit to myself get into the military service 
of the Union. 

I made inquiries, and studiously examined the 
public journals, but no ray of light dawned upon 
me. " It is no place for women," was the, cry on 
every hand. Hospitals were as the houses of 
death, in the minds of respectable and virtuous 
communities. Still the steady streams of .youth- 
ful valor flowed into the red shambles of war, 
and were sacrificed at the streaming altars. 

In the ravines of Bull Run the remains of our 
murdered men lay rotting in the sun of the second 
summer, and the swamps of the Chickahominy 
had opened their wet bosoms to make room for 
thousands of graves. Richmond was still in the 
gloomy distance, and the people groaned in the 



36 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

heaviness of sorrow, which lay like a funeral pall 
over city, town, and hamlet. 

The trickhng streams of Manassas were again 
stained with the gore from human hearts, and, 
amidst the trampled greenery of its shadowy 
ravines, dead men lay close to the whitened skele- 
tons of the last year's fight. 

The dread suspense which followed every battle's 
thunder, hung like a dense cloud over the whole 
stretch of our darkened land. Pale faces looked 
into pale faces, which dared not open their white 
lips to speak the fear that was knocking at the 
trembling heart. 

While this dread fear lay over us, I was led by 
Providence into the right channel. Sitting at a 
window in the Orphan Asylum at Auburn, New 
York, conversing with Mrs. Reed, the kindly 
matron, and watching the newly enlisted soldiers 
of the adjacent country, at a game of ball near 
the cam,p, I said, " I wish I knew of some way to 
get into the military service to take care of just 
such boys as those, when they shall need it." 

Assuring herself of my sincerity, while laying 
all the hardships of such a life in reality before 
me, she said, " The Board of Managers for the 
Soldier's Aid Society meets to-morrow, and you 
can ascertain from them just what is necessary 
for you to do in order to secure a situation." 

I met the board, stated my errand, and as they 
had a pass for one nurse, I was nominated, recom- 
mended, and voted upon, receiving the appoint- 



INSTRUCTIONS. 6 1 

ment, subject to the approval of Miss D. L. Dix, 
Superintendent of Women Nurses in the Military 
Hospitals of the Union. 

In due time, under the cover of " Official Busi- 
ness," my appointment was confirmed, and accom- 
panied by circulars, which served to define clearly 
the requisites for service. 

One is signed by William A. Hammond, Surgeon 
General, marked No. 7, and dated Washington, 
D. C, July 14, 1862, and reads as follows : " In 
order to give greater utility to the acts of Miss 
D. L. Dix, as Superintendent of Women Nurses in 
General Hospitals, and to make the employment 
of such nurses conform more closely to existing 
laws, and orders of the War Department, the 
following announcement is made for the informa- 
tion and guidance of medical officers, and all con- 
cerned : 

" Miss Dix has been entrusted by the War 
Department with the duty of selecting women 
nurses, and assigning them to general or perma- 
nent military hospitals. Women nurses are not to 
be employed in such hospitals without her sanction 
and approval, except in cases of urgent need. 

" Women nurses will be under the control and 
direction of the medical officer in charge of the 
hospital to which they are assigned, and may be 
discharged by him, if incompetent, insubordinate, 
or otherwise unfit for their vocation. 

" Miss Dix is charged with the diligent over- 
sight of women nurses, and with the duty of ,ascer- 



38 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

taiiiing, by personal inspection, whether, or not, 
they are performing their duties. Medical officers 
are enjoined to receive her suggestions and counsels 
with respect, and carry them into effect, if com- 
patible with the hospital service. 

" As it will be impossible for Miss Dix to super- 
vise in person all the military hospitals, she is 
authorized to delegate her authority as herein 
defined, to subordinate agents, not to exceed one 
for each city or military district. 

" Women wishing employment as nurses must 
apply to Miss Dix, or her authorized agents. 

" The army regulations allow one nurse to every 
ten patients (beds) in a general hospital. As it is 
the expressed will of the Government that a por- 
tion of these nurses shall be women, and, as Con- 
gress has given to the Surgeon General authority 
to decide in what numbers women shall be substi- 
tuted for men, it is ordered that there shall be one 
woman nurse to every two men nurses. Medical 
officers are hereby required to "organize their re- 
spective hospitals accordingly. 

" Medical officers requiring women nurses will 
apply to Miss Dix, or to her authorized agent, for 
the place where their hospitals are located. 

" Sisters of Charity will be employed, as at 
present, under special instructions from this office." 

The other is signed by Miss D. L. Dix, approved 
by William A. JHammond, Surgeon General, marked 
No. 8, and dated Washington, D. C, July 14, 1862, 
and reiads as follows : " No candidate for service in 



INSTRUCTIONS. 39 

the women's department for nursing in the military 
hospitals of the United States will be received 
below the age of thirty-five, nor above fifty. 

" Only women of strong health — ^not subjects of 
chronic diseases, nor liable to sudden illnesses need 
apply. The duties of the station make large and 
continued demands on strength. 

" Matronly persons of experience, good conduct, 
or superior education, and serious disposition, will 
always have preference. Habits of neatness, order, 
sobriety, and industry are pre-requisites. 

" All applicants must present certificates of 
qualification and good character from, at least, 
two persons of trust, testifying to morality, integ- 
rity, seriousness, and capacity for the care of the 
sick. 

" Obedience to the rules of the service, and con- 
formity to special regulations will be required and 
enforced. 

" Compensation, as regulated by act of Congress, 
forty cents a day and subsistence. Transportation 
furnished to and from the place of service. 

" Amount of luggage limited within small com- 
pass. 

"Dress, plain (colors — brown, grey, or black), 
and, while connected with the service, without 
ornaments of any sort. 

" No applicants accepted for less than three 
months' service ; those for longer periods always 
have preference." 

I was not of the requisite age, but no special 



40 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

inquiries on that subject rendering it necessary for 
me to testify to my years, I resolved not to be 
kept from the great work because no wrinkles 
seamed my face, and no vestige of grey hair 
nestled among my locks. I could, and did, bring 
all other testimonials, and within eight days, with 
the regulation supply of clothing in a small trunk, 
and Miss Dix's letter of instructions in my pocket, 
I was journeying alone from the city of Auburn to 
the beleaguered Capital. 

Antietam had just been fought. The battle 
ground was yet wet with blood, and fresh sorrow 
had been added to the grief of the people. 

It was a novel thing to journey on a military 
ticket — car passengers stared as though a Govern- 
ment nurse were a nondescript, and public curi- 
osity a cardinal virtue. Thanks to the kindness 
of Miss Dix, to whom I was to report on my 
urrival in Washington, my journey was -planned, 
and no accident of note occurred to break its 
perfect working. 

The lovely September weather seemed profaned 
with the news of death by slaughter, which was 
borne on every wire along the route. The intense 
excitement of the scenes, to which I was so rapidly 
hastening, thrilled every fibre of my being, and 
the golden haze, which wrapped wood, and 
meadow, and grain field, seemed only a floating 
mist, veiling my new life from my eager sight. 

The blue sky and the soft hush of the perfect day 
came to my senses like a fleeting summer breeze, 



THE JOURNEY TO WASHINGTON. 41 

borne on the wings of a November blast, and the 
rollicking and plunging of the iron steed, the 
swinging of warning bells, the rush at the stations 
— all were the passing scenes in a drama, of which 
I seemed to be an uninterested spectator. 

A few thoughts were given to the report that 
the railroad track was not in order from New 
York to Baltimore, but the cars moved on "with no 
break in their usual time. At Baltimore, failing 
to meet Col. Belger, to whom I was referred by 
Miss Dix, relieved of the necessity of venturing 
out into the blank darkness of the depot in that 
midnight hour, I retained my seat in the cars, and 
waited for them to move. 

The lonely night ride was wearisome in the ex- 
treme. With neither travelling companion on 
whom to rely for a word of cheer, nor the kindly 
questionings and remarks that relieve the mono- 
tony of silence and fatigue, I could but muse upon 
the probabiUties and improbabilities locked up in 
the storehouse of that exciting future, towards 
which I was now rapidly hastening. I pondered 
upon my situation — a Government nurse — alone 
amidst strangers — a novice in scenes of suffering 
and death — swiftly driving along to meet that 
from which my soul would recoil in terror — and 
thus the daylight greeted my eyes. The streaks 
of crimson flushing up the East, revealed to 

me the first warlike sight in a camp of soldiers 
just waking from sleep. 

My heart began to sicken. There they lay 



42 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

with one blanket over them, on the bare ground, 
knapsacks for pillows, rousing from dreams of 
home to a sense of their actual condition. Alas ! 
how many of them would never see home, or 
dear ones again ! 

The soldiers who had arisen were busy with 
the labors of the morning. Some were dipping 
water for their coffee from a little brook, whicli 
ran merrily by, some performing their morning 
ablutions, others washing their pocket handker- 
chiefs, and all in the same stream. I noticed that, 
man-like, the washing was going on above those 
who took out the water for their coffee. 

One man lay sleeping on the ties so soundly 
that he never moved as we thundered down past 
him. Poor fellow ! I wondered in what pleasant 
dream his senses were chained, and if he would 
ever realize the thought of a meeting when war 
was done, and the laurels of battle were gathered 
thickly around him in many an honorable scar. 

While waiting, a cavalryman came hurrying 
into the cars, shouting, " Have you any papers 
for a poor soldier ?" 

His arms were full in a moment, and he re- 
treated to read over, w^ith brother comrades, the 
news from the homes which they had left to pre- 
serve. For days I thought of his heavy eyelids, 
which seemed to droop for long want of refreshing 
sleep, and the chill that struck me while look- 
ing at the frost glittering on. his coat and cap. 

We whirled on, past pleasant farms, and delight- 



A TUMBLER OF WATER. 43 

ful country-seats, and soon entered the great cavern- 
ous depot at Washington. It was dark as though 
the smoke from a thousand grim throated furnaces 
had settled upon its walls, and thousands of 
soldiers had shook there the dust from their feet, 
brought from every State in the Union. 

I stood alone in the city of strangers, vainly wait- 
ing for the appearance of Col. Beige r, whom the 
conductor had promised to find, and accompany 
hither. Every carriage had disappeared, and still 
I waited for Col. Belger's coming before seeking 
conveyance to the house of Miss Dix. 

There was not a seat, or tank of water, or civil- 
ized convenience of any kind whatever, and tired, 
thirsty, and hungry, after two days and nights of 
travel, I stood wretchedly surveying the situation. 
A dim sense of what was before me struck upon 
my understanding, and I began to realize that a 
soldier's life was anything but pastime. 

I accosted a dirty ragged little girl, who was 
passing through the depot, staring vacantly at my 
motionless, solitary figure, and asked her if she 
could procure me some water. With a prolonged 
stolid look into my face, she hurried away with- 
out a word, soon however returning with a bat- 
tered tin tumbler filled with dirty-looking water. 
A.lthough so filthy as to be revolting, I took a 
swallow to quench my feverish thirst, and used 
the remainder, by pouring it on my handkerchief, 
to wash the dust of travel from my hands and 
face. 



44 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

I was in a sad plight to appear before the super- 
intendent, but there was no alternative, and act- 
ing on the suggestion of a passer-by, I took the 
street cars, and went out to seek her residence. 

Dust was flying thickly through the murky air 
of Washington. Officers were riding at the top- 
most speed, up and down the avenues, and a train 
of supply wagons, with from four to six mules 
attached, stood solidly packed together for two 
miles in length. 

Everything was bustle and excitement — the 
bright new uniforms of the officers — the glitter of 
military trappings were all new sights to my 
wondering eyes. It had not entered my heart 
that the army had reached such gigantic propor- 
tions, and consumed such marvellous supplies. 

But what most interested me, in the great 
moving panorama of war, was the sight of wounded 
men, lying on blood-stained stretchers, under 
fly tents, being borne in at every hand where a 
sheltering roof made it possible to establish a hos- 
pital. The Capitol, Patent Office, city churches, 
and private dwellings even were turned from 
their legitimate usage into hospitals. 

These sights, which especially recalled to mind 
the errand on which I had come, made all the 
courage in my soul recoil at one dread bound. A 
strange sense of sufibcation oppressed me, as if the 
air by which I was surrounded was filled with 
poisonous vapors, and for a few minutes I doubted 
my own strength. 



REPORTING TO MISS DIX. 45 

I have since wondered, when I looked back on 
all these wretched self-abnegating sensations, and 
then remembered that I did labor with reward 
amongst men torn in the conflict, bleeding and 
dymg, whether the many daring spirits, who 
have climbed to the very pinnacle of fame, ever 
experienced in the rough upward path any of 
these despairing feelings, which, while they per- 
haps did not turn the feet from the onward 
march, yet clogged them as with the heavy mire 
and clay of earth, making the triumphant end 
seem distant. 

At Fifteenth street I left the car and set out on 
foot to reach Miss Dix's residence. Up and down 
the street I passed, and repassed, unable to find 
the number designated by my orders, as they had 
been read. Prompted by feelings of despair, I 
made inquiries, and found that the numbers did 
not range so high, and that I was misdirected. 
On producing her letter the mistake was rectified, 
and I was very soon at Miss Dix's door. 

There I was kindly received by her house- 
keeper, who said, pityingly, " Why, you poor child, 
I have seen you running up and down here all the 
morning." 

Miss Dix was absent on the battle field of 
Antietam, directing and organizing the force 
of women nurses who received orders from her 
hands. My appointment, however, awaited me, 
and also a letter of introduction to Dr. Charles 
Pa^e, the surgeon in charge of Judiciary Square 



46 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

Hospital, to which I was assigned for initiatory 
duty. 

After a comforting cup of tea, and generous 
slices of solid bread and butter, with some 
sauce, I found the ambulance in waiting to convey 
me to the scenes of my introductory labor. 



JUDICIARY SQUARE HOSPITAL. 47 



CHAPTER n. 

JUDICIARY SQUARE HOSPITAL — WEAK FLESH AND TIMID 
HEART — TRYING TO REST — THE GRIM HORROR — MINGLED 

SOUNDS " DINNER FOR THE LADIES " THE DEAD-HOUSE 

THE BLOODY CLOTH — A FAITHFUL NURSE — INTRODUC- 
TION TO THE WARD — STRENGTH FROM ABOVE — THE WEARY 

NIGHT — DREAMS OF TERROR THE SCENE CHANGED 

FIRST WORK IN THE HOSPITAL — THE GRATEFUL HEARTS 
— THE BLIND BOY — ON THE AWFUL FIELD — EXCHANGED 
— THE father's visit — THE PATRIOTIC SOUL. 

In the sinking of heart which fell upon me, as I 
saw the great stretch of low unpainted buildings, 
which filled the space at my side, it was necessary 
to summon all the latent courage in my soul be- 
fore I could gain courage enough to enter. Some- 
how I knew I must be sustained, I should not be 
forsaken for doing my plain duty, and I gave 
myself up to the drifting current. 

It was of my own seeking ; I had been eager to 
lend myself to the glorious cause of Freedom, and 
now, on the threshold of the hospital in which 
gaping wounds, and fevered, thirsting lips awaited 
me, telling their ghastly tales of the bloody battle, 
my cheek flushed, and my hand grew hot and 
trembling. Weak flesh and timid heart would 
have counseled flight, but a strong will held 



48 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

them in abeyance, and the doors opened to receive 
me. 

I was shown to my quarters, and kindly wel- 
comed by Miss Clark, the woman nurse from 
whom I was to take my instructions. 

Urging me to occupy one of the two beds 
which were in the room, and remarking upon my 
tired worn look, she left me with an injunction to 
try hard to rest, while she must hasten away to 
the bedside of a dying man in our ward. 

I had never been so near death before. The 
horror of its nearness had never chilled my heart 
till now. I could not sleep. My brain seemed on 
fire ; the groans of suffering men echoing on all 
sides, aroused me to the highest pitch of excite- 
ment. 

Was it any wonder that mortal weakness 
shrank from confronting the hard cold realities of 
sharpest anguish like this? "Would you question 
the courage of the soldier who braved death, 
charging intrepidly upon the enemy's works, if 
you knew that in his heart, a moment before the 
blow met it, was the wild thought, " 0, why did I 
leave home, wife, friends and children for this ?" 

The human heart is a complex thing. It may lie 
bare and quivering at your feet to await the 
stroke, and yet give no signs of the terror with 
which it awaits the transfixing blow. 

Sounds of woe resounded about me, mingled 
now and then with hilarious laughter. I won- 
dered if ever in this bare room, with only the 



THE DEAD-HOUSE. 49 

length of an unpainted board for the partition 
walls between wards, halls, nurses' quarters, and 
all other officers, I should ever close my eyes to 
such sleep as used to come to their lids before they 
beheld grim-visaged war catch up the death deal- 
ing weapons. 

A shuffling past my door started me to my feet, 
and when Miss Clark returned with the informa- 
tion that the man was dead, and carried to the 
dead-house, fancy painted the picture of the stark 
stiffening corps, as careless feet walked through 
the hall, bearing the dead out from amidst the 
living. 

The porter's call of, " Dinner for the ladies — 
turn out for dinner — all things are ready — turn in 
to dinner," was a welcome cry, for I had eaten 
nothing substantial for two days. 

The dinner consisted of a leg of beef, not very 
well dressed, dry beans, and bread in which the 
grit set my teeth on edge. The Potomac water 
furnished our beverage, and sufficed to wash down 
the morsel which rebelliously stuck in our 
throats. 

There was no duty for me that day, and after 
dinner was over, I went with Miss Clark to the 
dead-house to see the man who died in the morn- 
ing. 

Could I ever suppress the shuddering that passed 
over me, as I entered the low wooden house, in 
which on rude benches lay the cold white corpses 
of three men ? Miss Clark uncovered the face 

4 



50 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

of the man who died last, and told me his story — 
of the wife and three children in the far "West, 
who were yet to know how it had gone with their 
soldier. He was wounded in the second battle of 
Bull Run, and had been under her care for ten 
days. 

A cloth saturated with blood lay over a bench, 
and I was so wrought upon by the sadness of the 
sfcene, and the echoing of many groans coming 
from the wards, that I only desired to hasten 
away from the dreadful place, and forget that it 
was man against his brother man, who was caus- 
ing this awful destruction. 

I clung to Miss Clark with the tenacity of long 
established friendship in these first experiences of 
hospital service. She was a New England wo- 
man — whole-hearted, and ready to sacrifice her 
own comfort at any time, if by so doing she could 
ease the pain of any sick or suffering soldier. 
She was a Christian woman, sending the light of 
real consolation into the darkness to cheer the 
dying, and lift up those on whom, in the throes 
of agony, despair was preying. 

And many such women, with true hearts, went 
down to be the soldiers' friend, regarding priva- 
tions, and sickness, and toil as of little conse- 
quence, if some eyes over which the film of death 
was stealing, could look upon them and die in the 
calm belief that a mother, or wife, or sister was 
standing by the bedside, smoothing the pillow, 
and moistening the parched lips. 



THE WEART NIGHT. 51 

At the usual time we were called to a supper, 
consisting of the same dark, dirty bread, with 
dried apple-sauce, and tea which was black with 
strength. An introductory visit to the wards, in 
which my labors were to commence so soon, ended 
the long, strange day. I looked upon the narrow 
iron bedsteads furnished with bed of straw, one 
straw pillow, two sheets, one blanket and counter- 
pane, three rows of which ran the length of the 
long room, forming narrow passage ways through 
which we walked, and I said to myself, " I will 
do this work — not of myself have I strength, but 
the Lord being my helper, I shall be enabled to 
do that good labor for which my hands have been 
so long waiting." 

The night, dragging its weary hours along — for 
they were not winged by sleep — came to me with 
visions of battle fields strewn with horror ; sounds 
as of blood trickling from many wounds ; green 
grass and waving grain trodden by artillery ; and 
the woods made the hiding places of ten thousand 
deaths. Lovely plains stretched out before me, 
on which the harvest, just mown, was not yet 
prepared for flesh, and blood, and muscle. Then 
the scene changed to home with its peaceful pleas- 
ures; friends greeting each other in the hazy 
September mornings ; work, which at this dis- 
tance seemed mere pastime ; the quiet woods, the 
meadows ankle deep with their rich food and the 
well-rounded cattle ranging over them ; the blue 
lake lying like a gem in the- loveliest of vallies. 



52 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

All these came to my pillow that night, and 
haunted me with a strange restiveness which 
drove slumber from my eyelids. 

The morning of the nineteenth of September 
dawned over the long low hospital, and my duties 
began. With silent prayers for courage, and 
struggling with the beating at my heart, armed 
with wash bowl, soap and towels, I went into the 
ward, and entered upon my first work as a hos- 
pital nurse, amongst those who had been wounded 
in fighting the second battle of Bull Run. 

It was no small matter for me to apply the wet 
towel to the faces of bronzed and bearded men ; it 
was no slight task to comb out the tangled hair 
and part it over foreheads which seemed hot with 
the flash of cannon. I had been nurtured in quie- 
tude, and had little conception of the actual state 
of things when the timid heart preferred to remain 
in that state, though the brain and hand were in 
rebellion to it, and held it down to the servitude. 

I did not fancy it would wear off so soon, I did 
not think when, shudderingly, I first looked into 
the dead-house, and saw the three icy corpses, 
that these feet would ever stumble over stiff 
mortal clay, and hardly pause to note what lay 
within their path. 

But this strange feature in human mechanism 
is incomprehensible, and will forever remain a 
mystery with successive generations. 

It was wonderful to me to see the universal 
childishness with which each threw himself uDon 



THE BLIND BOY. 53 

our sympathies, and related, as to a mother, the 
history of the fight, the position in which he was 
shot, the length of time which he passed on the 
battle ground, the final removal, and, most of all, 
the deep thankfulness with which he received our 
attention. 

Woman's help had not been counted upon, 
when, in the first tumultuous rush of excited 
feeling, the citizen enlisted to serve under the 
banner of the soldier. And when her hand with 
its softer touch pressed on the aching forehead, 
and bathed the fevered face, words failed in the 
attempt to express the gratitude of a full h(\art. 

For several successive mornings one poor fellow, 
whose eyes were both shot out, with his head 
badly shattered, lay silent while his ablutions 
were being performed. I thought he had perhaps 
lost his speech in the untold terror of his sightless 
condition, but by-and-by he said, " Thank you," 
when the process of washing was completed. 

I could not comb his hair, for the bandages 
were bound tightly over it, and, as he turned away 
after the simple recognition of thanks, I passed on 
without questioning him. A few days went by, 
then he said, " Did you notice that I never talked 
to you, as other patients did, when you first came 
to take care of us ?" I replied, " I did." 

" Then I will tell you why," he continued ; " I 
was so thankful, that I had no words for speech 
- — to think the women of the North should come 
down here, and do so much for us, being exposed 



54 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

to all kinds of disease, and to so much work and 
hnid fare, all to take care of us poor soldiers, when 
we lie as I do." 

I inquired how he came to be a soldier, he 
seeming so young, and barely of the requisite age 
to serve his country. He told me the same old 
story of enthusiastic desire to do for his country in 
her hour of peril, and it seemed a cowardly thing to 
stand back, and let others share all the dangers, 
when he, too, had a land to save. When those, 
who were reared among the same hills, were going 
out to the beat of the drum to fight, and die if God 
BO willed it, he felt like a craven to linger behind. 

While at the place of enlistment, in the very 
act of signing his name, his father appeared, and 
forbade the act, took him home, and confined him 
within the house. But the patriotism in his 
boyish heart grew beyond all bounds, and he 
eluded his jailor in season to go out amongst the 
boys, with whom he had hunted squirrels, and 
,roamed the woods in search of autumn's dropping 
nuts, to be hoarded up for winter. ^ 

It was all over now. He had done all that he 
could for the dear old flag — he had been shattered, 
and left a useless thing to die among the numer- 
ous dead around him on that terrible field. He 
had lain for eleven days amongst the rotting, 
putrid throng — the horrors shut out, indeed, from 
his sight, but with his other senses, sharpened by 
the sounds of pain, revealing to his ears and im- 
agination the real nature of the scene around him. 



ON THE AWFUL FIELD. 55 

His only food during that time was two hard 
tack, which he shaved down with his pocket knife, 
and moistened with a few drops of water, that 
remained in his canteen. Then, too, this had to 
be drawn into his mouth with his tongue, for he 
couki not move his jaws. ' 

Another soldier, wounded in the limbs, and 
unable to move away, made himself known to the 
blind man, and, to avoid starvation, they agreed 
each to help the other, one having the eyes, and 
the other the limbs. Thus staggering under the 
weight, the exhausted soldier started from the 
awful spot, where death was holding high car- 
nival. ! the soul sickens at the thought of the 
sights shut out to the one, but to the other only 
too palpable — the horrible flow of blood; the 
putrid masses of human flesh ; the gleaming bones, 
from which everything had fallen clean ; but over 
the despair — the sickness almost unto death — the 
love of life fluttered like a prisoned bird, and 
would not let them droop. 

Then, like hyenas snuffing the scent of prey in 
the hot air, in the likeness of humanity, but 
void of its soul, vampires came upon the ground, 
rifling the bodies of the slain. To these creatures, 
many of the wounded turned, imploring them to 
convey them from that place of death, to prison, 
anywhere away from the horrors, which hourly 
grew greater and greater. 

Some were taken to a rebel hospital, and their 
wounds were there dressed by Union soldiers, who 



56 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

were also held as prisoners of war. Soon after 
they were exchanged, and the gratitude in the 
soldier's heart, when he heard a woman's step 
about his bedside, and felt the touch of her 
hand upon his pillow was indeed too great for 
utterance. 

A father came after a while to see his son, and 
as he looked upon the sightless eyes, he groaned 
in bitterness of spirit, " 0, my son, if you had 
only obeyed your father you would have been 
spared this affliction. Now you can never look 
upon the world again, henceforth and forever 
darkness is over your vision !" 

" But," said the patriotic boy, " the loss of my 
sight is nothing in comparison to the sufferings 
which filled my soul, when I thought how they 
needed me to help fight the battles for freedom, 
and I was held from going!" 

He recovered his health, and went forth into a 
darkened world ; and though his eyes shall no 
more behold the fair land for which he has made 
so terrible a sacrifice, his name is inscribed upon 
the lists of Fame as one of earth's demi-gods, 

" Ennobled by himself, by all approved," 



THE WOUNDED MEN. 57 



CHAPTER HI. 

THE WOUNDED MEN — OUR DUTIES — FALLING INTO THE 

WORK — HOME WELL-NIGH FORGOTTEN RED TAPE 

FORAGING FOR RATIONS — THE STRANGE APPARITION — A 
LECTURE ON DUTIES — ARRESTED — UNDER THE TRIAL — 
ANTICIPATING SENTENCE — A JOYFUL REPRIEVE — WASH- 
ING DISHES — THE END OF THE SCENE — DISTRIBUTING 
LUXURIES — THE CHANGE — NO MURMURING. 

Forty-six wounded men lay helpless on the 
iron bedsteads in our ward at Judiciary Square 
Hospital, and from out the hall enough more had 
gone into the convalescents' room, to swell the 
entire number under our care to eighty. Each of 
the fourteen wards, which projected in wings 
from the long central building, held also its full 
quota. 

Amongst the wounded were many hopelessly 
shattered, who would henceforth drag useless 
members through life, and some who would miss 
forever the good stout limbs which lay in the 
trenches of Manassas. 

A minnie ball had passed through both ankles 
of one— another had a fractured thigh — the arm 
of one had been amputated — a shot in the head 
destroyed the senses of another; and one with 



58 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

his back bone severely injured was compelled to 
lay upon his face through the tedious hours. 

Every case was different, and nearly all seemed 
suffering to the greatest extent of human endur- 
ance. Only that first strong hope in life which is 
implanted in all our species kept up their sink- 
ing courage, and enabled them to bear bravely the 
throes of pain. 

Our duties here were to distribute food to the 
patients, when brought up from the kitchen ; wash 
the faces and hands, and comb the heads of the 
wounded ; see that their bedding and clothing was 
kept clean and whole, bring pocket handkerchiefs, 
prepare and give the various drinks and stimu- 
lants at such times as they were ordered by the 
surgeon. 

I dropped into my desired sphere at once, and 
my whole soul was in the work. Every man 
wore the look of a hero in my eyes, for had they 
not faced, the red death from thundering artillery, 
and braved the deadly shots of the "minnies?" 
Had they not stood fearlessly, when like leaves of 
the autumn before a howling blast, they had 
ftiUen thick and fast — bronzed and dripping with 
gore — faces forward in the black mud of the 
trenches? 

Home, with its joys and peaceful pleasures, 
was well-nigh forgotten. I remembered them all 
as the faint sounds of music are remembered, 
•when the being is wholly wrapped up in new and 
intense thought. The horrors of the first day 



FORAGING FOR RATIONS. 59 

had faded from my vision- — wounds and suffering 
became habitual sights, and the absorbing nature 
of hospital labor gradually hardened my nerves to 
the strength of steel. 

Surgeons and officers were very kind to us, but 
they gave stringent orders which we were some- 
times • almost willing to disobey. The red tape, 
as the soldiers termed it, required too much 
official ceremony in the untying — we would rather 
break the string, and in serving the wounded 
hurriedly throw away the pieces. 

Women nurses were not allowed to go into the 
kitchen for articles of any kind ; consequently the 
patients were many times obliged to go without the 
countless little comforts which a sick fancy craves. 
We devised many ways to relieve their wants, 
begging tea, sugar, and other luxuries of loyal 
ladies — of Miss Dix, of State agents, and of Sani- 
tary and' Christian Commissions, and when these 
failed us, the boys took the hard earned pay of 
soldiers, and sent out for the articles themselves. 
We would prepare it for them by slipping a basin 
of water into the stove in the ward, and by drop- 
ping the tea into it when boiling. 

It was then taken to our quarters, and carried 
thence in a bowl, having all the appearance of 
official ordering, if a surgeon or the officer of the 
day chanced to pass through the ward. The men 
had for their food whatever the surgeon chose to 
order for them while on his daily rounds. Their 
meals usually consisted, for the severest cases, of 



60 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMt». 

tea, toast, rice, milk, eggs, gruel, and chicken 
soup. Others generally had a tin cup two-thirds 
full of tea or coffee, and sugar and milk, with 
potatoes, meats, soups, bread and butter often for 
dinner. 

It was Miss Dix's wish that we should learn to 
dress wounds, but we were peremptorily ordered 
from the ward, when that process was in opera- 
tion. One day I was sent out with an abrupt, 
" Nurse, we can dispense with your services now," 
and, retiring to our room, I stretched myself upon 
my little iron bedstead to ease my weary feet and 
limbs. 

While, in this position, I lay thinking of my 
work, a tall woman, habited in black, came in 
with noiseless steps, and appeared before me. 
She put various questions to me, with an au- 
thority which I was too startled to dispute. She 
gave me instructions in regard to duty^ lectured 
me roundly on this seeming neglect, and when 
my lips opened to plead my defence, an admoni- 
tory, " hvjsh," from the strange figure closed them 
again. 

I was altogether too young for a nurse, she said. 
Then came visions of disgrace — of the shame 
which would overcome me, if Miss Dix should 
send mo home for this grave fault, concerning 
which I had no conception but that of innocence. 
My pride rose at the thought, and when an order 
came, summoning me to appear before Miss Dix 
at seven o'clock on the following morning, I felt 



WASHING DISHES. 61 

like the culprit, who is about to be led into court 
for sentence, for I had discovered, on inquiry, that 
my strange visitor was no other than the Super- 
intendent of Women Nurses. 

I found her busy with letters, and, after watch- 
ing her in uneasy nervousness, as she dashed off 
two or three, I gathered courage enough to say, 
" Miss Dix, I should like to return as soon as pos- 
sible to my duties." 

She replied, ''You can go, dear," at the same 
time she opened a drawer in her table, and took 
therefrom a five dollar bill, which she handed 
me, saying, "This is not pay — only a little 
present from me." 

I took it in confusion, and, as she bade me a 
kind " Good-morning," I hastened back to the hos- 
pital, feeling like the prisoner, who has unexpect- 
edly received his acquittal, and finished the duties 
of the day with unwonted cheerfulness. 

Mine was only a temporary assignment for in- 
struction. Miss Clark had been there only four 
weeks on my arrival, and neither of us knew that 
our true rank was next to the surgeon of the 
ward. Consequently, when the head nurse im- 
posed upon us the washing of dishes for the whole 
ward, although with demurring among ourselves, 
and considerable questioning as to the duty, we 
wielded the dish cloth for days, soiling our cloth- 
ing, and often busily employed when we knew we 
needed the hours for rest. 

But a change soon came over the spirit of this 



62 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

dream, brought about by my usual unsophisticated 
manner. One of our convalescents said to me one 
evening, while standing in the hall, " Miss Buck- 
lin, there's a letter for you in the oflfice," and my 
rep]}', " I wish you had brought it down," drew 
forth the offer to go and fetch it. Our nurse, 
seeing us in conversation^, roughly ordered the 
boy into his room, I protesting mildly that "he 
was doing no hurt out of it a moment." 

The man repeated his command, at the same 
time pushed the boy violently through the door, 
and closed it. Presently there appeared a pair of 
red pants, a blue jacket above, and the whole sur- 
mounted by a red cap, with the usual tassel pen- 
dant — the garb of a soldier, who, stalking out, 
demanded to know what was the matter ? " Why 
he was thus badgering the women ? he had heard 
enough of it; it had been going on ever since we 
had been there, and now must be ended." 

He sent a blow at the nurse, which, overreach- 
ing him, pushed me backward into the scullery, 
and cut off my escape, while they struggled each 
to reach a knife from the shelves their hands 
clenched with murderous intent. A guard was 
summoned, and the zouave stated the case, while 
the crest-fallen nurse hurled defiance at him from 
his scowling visage. 

" And we both live in New York," the soldier 
said, " and we may meet some day ; but for fear we 
won't, I will give you the rest now," — jumping at 
him, and dealing heavy blows thick and fast, the 



DISTRIBUTING LUXURIES. • 63 

men looking on calmly till it was ended. He 
then went quietly away with the guard, and the 
nurse was invisible for two days. 

At the end of that time, after due inquiries by 
the proper officials, he received his relief papers, 
and our dishwnshing was ended; a boy having 
been detailed for that purpose, as was the regular 
method. 

A young New York captain, named Stephens, 
received a box full of tempting things from home 
one day, and the generous fellow could not enjoy it 
alone ; no selfish hoarding of the dainty bits for 
his own palate would satisfy the whole-hearted 
soldier, and he gave the contents into my hands 
for distribution in the ward. 

In my eagerness to give each one able to eat it 
a slice of the cake, and a bit of the buttered bread, 
I lost all thought of its being forbidden to give 
such articles without the consent of the surgeon, 
and cutting the several loaves of cake in pieces, 
■ and nicely buttering the slices of bread from the 
contents of a little tin can also in the box, I went 
round with, the loaded tray in triumph. 

While in the midst of the excitement, the officer 
of the day came into the ward ; and before I was 
aware of his presence, laid his hand heavily on 
my shoulders, saying distinctly, " Nurse, what are 
you doing?" 

Had a thunder-bolt fallen at my feet I could not 
have been more startled. My heart leaped into 
my throat, and almost suffiDcated me with its 



64 . IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

throbbings. I had been doing an extraordinary 
thing; an act strictly forbidden by the officials 
of the hospital, and in my terror I expected the 
doom of utter disgrace and dismissal from the 
service. 

My relief came from the captain, whose bounty 
I was dispensing, as he said quickly, " Doctor, the 
ward surgeon gave her leave to distribute these 
things." 

" Oh, it's all right then," was the reply, and the 
empty tray soon was laid aside. The contents of 
the captain's box was a day's treat to the soldiers 
of the ward. 

I sat one evening, after my duties were over, 
thinking how happy I would be to see every man 
in the hospital sent home, recovered in health and 
spirits, and wondering if death waited for any 
amongst them. My meditations were broken in 
upon by the appearance of an orderly, command- 
ing me to report to Miss Dix without delay. 

I obeyed forthwith, but instead of written in- 
structions, verbal ones only awaited me from her 
housekeeper. The matter being somewhat mixed, 
instead of being assigned to permanent duty at 
Judiciary Square, and Miss Clark going to Thir- 
teenth Street Hospital to take care of a nurse who 
was down with the measles, I was sent to the 
latter place, and the change came like a blow upon 
me. I had become so much interested in the wel- 
fare of each patient, had made each one's history 
the story of a brother, and how could I leave 



NO MURMURING. 65 

them, without feeling pangs of the regret, which 
comes not at the severing of common friendships. 

I hesitated at the thought of the new faces — 
the new ways which I must learn — but as I was 
under military control, nothing remained for me 
but to obey without a murmur. The soldier may 
not chose in what ditch he will die ; he may not 
say under whose generalship he will be led out to 
battle; he is only one little part of the giant 
machine which is to crush out wrong by its resist- 
less might — and why was I better than our boys 
in blue? 



66 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 



CHAPTER lY. 

THIRTEENTH STREET HOSPITAL — THE FAMILIAR CHIME — 
GOOD QUARTERS — GOING TO THE WASH-ROOM — THE TOIL- 
ING CONTRABANDS THE MILDEWED CLOTHING — THE UN- 
CLEAN WORK — A LITTLE LOTH — ^A DAY OF REST — CLEAN 

BEDS AND CHANGES — ^A HOSPITAL NURSE NOT FOR THE 

GAIN — A TRIUMPHANT DEATH — TEARING UP — PREPARA- 
TIONS FOR A BATTLE — THE GENEROUS HAND — A WEARY 
WAITING — THE VISIT TO ALEXANDRIA — AT LAST. 

On arriving at the hospital I found it estab- 
lished in the Baptist Church — a branch from the 
Epiphany Church Hospital, and in charge of a Dr. 
Miller, whose home was near my own. I learned 
soon after, to the comfort of my heart, that the 
steward, general ward master, and cook were also 
from that region. 

How the senses waken to everything, however 
remote, over which our native sky has bent, and 
look with favor upon hearts which retain the 
image of the same familiar flowers that spangle 
the dewy meadows about our homes. Although 
too much absorbed in my work for genuine home- 
sickness, yet the thought of familiar Auburn, 
Cayuga, and Ithaca sent a momentary longing to 
my brain, after which, with unabated strength, I 
took up the thread of toil again. 



GOING TO THE WASHROOM. 67 

The sick nurse's work — the care of the linen 
room, fell to my hands in addition to the charge 
of nursing. I began the task of mending, and 
laying the clothes properly away. 

Our accommodations were very good, the puri- 
fied linen occupying the shelves about the room, 
which had evidently been a session house. We 
had each a bedstead, a bed covered with a white 
counterpane, and a chair with a stand which we 
used in common. A stove with a stew pan, a 
frying pan, and a quart cup sufficed as utensils by 
which we were to cook our food, and boil our 
coffee — both being furnished raw from the kitchen, 
as we preferred to prepare them ourselves. 

Some trunks holding jellies, wines, and other 
delicacies were in the room, and we were told to 
take from them whatever we required for our 
comfort. 

One day, at the steward's request, I went with 
him to the yard where the clothes were hanging 
to dry, and, to my utter consternation, found the 
ground covered with garments lying in the dirt, 
and badly mildewed. This sight led to an investi- 
gation into the wash-room, where five hundred 
pieces more were found in the same condition — 
wet and mouldy. In one portion of the room was 
a tub of bandages, with a green scum over the 
putrid water; in another corner a huge pile of 
flannel shirts, drawers, blankets, bed quilts, and 
stockings lay on the floor, wet with the dirty slops 
which had run underneath, till they were rotten 



68 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

at one- end, and burned at the other by the heat 
of the laundry stoves. 

Seven contraband women were still toiling 
among this condition of things, and yet I was 
told that there was not a single change for the men, 
neither had the beds been cleansed for two weeks. 
It was a sad state, where the comfort of so many 
men was at stake, and I asked permission to 
undertake a revolution in the department. 

The steward replied that I could not confer a 
greater favor on the hospital than to obtain a 
change for the men and beds by Sunday, adding, 
" But it is an arduous task ; I do not wish to im- 
pose it upon you." 

I said, -- It is my work, if I can do it, for I came 
out to put my hands to anything which my 
strength and ability made possible, if it would add 
to the soldiers' comfort." And I thought myself 
capable of attending to my patients, and this task 
also. 

Permission was willingly granted, and I set my- 
self about planning the unclean labor. With the 
promise of Sunday for a day of rest, when hith- 
erto it had been like the long six days of the week 
just ended, I enlisted the interest of the colored 
women, and laid out the work. 

I went into the room after dinner, had the 
garments brought in from the yard, sorted and 
folded those which would answer for ironing, and 
sent the remainder to the wash. Three of the 
women I took to wash, three to iron, and one to 



CLEAN BEDS AND CHANGES. 69 

make the fires, fill the kettles with water, and fold 
the clothes. Having thus divided the labor, I 
remained to see that the work was properly done, 
now ironing a garment at the table, then going to 
the tub, and washing a piece, talking to them all 
the while about the necessity of doing their work 
well. 

They were illy inclined to be taught, and some- 
what morose about it, but soon recovered their 
equanimity of spirits; and Saturday afternoon 
found us with the clothes washed and ironed, and 
the stoves and floors cleaned for the first time 
since the hospital had being. Those seven women 
had a day of rest on Sunday, and the soldiers a 
supply of clean clothing, and clean beds. 

Unused to work where order was to be observed 
— -just loosed from the bonds of slavery, it mat- 
tered little to the naturally indolent dispositions 
of the washerwomen whether the bedding rotted in 
the dirty slops on the filthy floor, or whether the 
mildew left its blight upon scores of garments — the 
supply from Government was inexhaustible — and, 
if it was not, it mattered little to them. So they 
had toiled on, the work never done, and what was 
done only fit for another washing. 

They wanted a directing spirit. The long use 
of a lifetime — the overseer and the lash must 
be represented in some shape, even if they came 
in the person of an humble hospital nurse, whose 
visions of Monday's purified garments, fluttering in 
snowy whiteness over a strip of green sward, bor- 



70 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

dered with currant bushes, was hardly comparable 
with the tawny complexion of the wash hung out 
into the shifting dust of a hospital yard. 

Officers now and then threw out hints that 
women were a nuisance in war. We cared little 
when we saw them button their dress coats com- 
placently over their lofty forms, and only smiled 
as we saw them draw up the white paper collars 
which surmounted their bright uniforms, as though 
conscious of inspiring respect by the show of seem- 
ing linen. 

We knew that many a poor wounded fellow 
blessed in his heart the women who provided 
sheets, fresh from the purifying scent of water, for 
his beds, and it was enough for us to know that 
we were wanted and appreciated by the very 
soldiers — the heroes of the fight — whom we had 
come especially to minister unto, especially when 
their shadows were lengthening out into the valley 
that leads to a new life. 

It was something for all to remember that the 
poor pittance of forty cents a day and soldiers' 
rations constituted the pay of an army nurse. 
That consideration certainly could not have 
allured us from homes of comparative ease and 
luxury, whereas the charge of serving for the 
one hundred dollars and upward a month was 
brought with a show of justice against many a 
shoulder-strapped fellow, who proved unfit to lead 
men with souls into a fight. 

No man of generous heart wished women shut 



PREPARATIONS FOR A BATTLE. 71 

out from the doors of either field or city hospitals 
— none with a single thought for the comfort of 
those who missed by a hair's breadth, the death 
which met scores of comrades in rifle pits, and in 
the face of the deadly sweep of columns, charg- 
ing across the open plain. It was only the 
ruffians who feared the just censure of compas- 
sionate women, who wished to exclude these from 
performing the labors, which kept our feet on the 
round from early morn to the setting of the sun. 
Such were not fair exponents, however, of manli- 
ness in the army, while thousands of brave men, 
who aided us in the duties devolving upon our 
hands, cheered us on with appreciative words. 

Only one death occurred during my brief stay in 
Thirteenth Street Hospital — a young man of 
such interesting character, that he was mourned 
over by surgeons, nurses, and patients alike. He 
passed to his rest while his father stood by the 
bedside, and saw the triumphant smile which 
lingered on the pale face after angels had talked 
with the ransomed spirit. 

I remained in this place for four weeks, when 
Miss Clapp, recovering from her illness, was again 
on duty. Just as I was becoming interested in 
the hospital patients, I was ordered to report to 
Miss Dix again, and my newly planted affections 
were wrenched, root and branch, from the soil. 

Another battle was to be fought. The preparar 
tions were rapidly going forward to meet the de- 
mands it would make upon humanity. 



72 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

On the first of November I reported to the 
superintendent, and was given my letter of intro- 
duction to the surgeon at Hammond General 
Hospital, at Point Lookout, Maryland. Miss Dix 
met me with a " Good morning, dear," and an ur- 
gent request to come in for a cup of tea. How I 
revered the hand which never withheld from lowly 
hosjDital nurse, or suffering, starving soldiers! 
Age may have wrinkled that brow, but in its 
placid look of peace was a beauty such as youth 
may not boast — the serene sunshine which breaks 
over a life well-spent in doing good to its fellow 
creatures. 

"Go in the spirit of my Master — God bless 
you, and good-by," she said, as she gave me my 
final orders, and I left her hospitable roof in her 
own carriage, and went to the wharf to board the 
steamer which we both thought would soon be 
pushing down the blue Potomac. 

All day, with Miss Ella Wolcott, another Go- 
vernment nurse, I waited in the captain's ofiice, 
but the boat still lay at the wharf. Weary and 
hungry we walked the long two miles back to the 
house of the superintendent and reported. I was 
sent to my old quarters in the hospital, so recently 
left, while Miss Wolcott found shelter elsewhere. 
For seven days in succession we reported nightly ; 
every morning we went to the wharf to remain 
through the long dull hours, and again back 
through the dust, which was ankle deep in the 
husv streets of the Capital. 



VISIT TO ALEXANDRIA. 73 

Faint with anxiety and weary with waiting, on 
the sixth day my companion, noticing that we 
were attracting attention, proposed to go over to 
Georgtown, where three other nurses were wait- 
ing to join us on the steamer. Without any 
knowledge of the route, we wall^ed across the 
country in the direction in which we supposed 
the city lay, and went miles further than neces- 
sary, getting burned with the heat, choked with 
the heavy dust, foot-sore and discouraged, and 
arrived a few moments after the dinner hour was 
over. 

Tears were well-nigh forced up, by our vexa- 
tion of spirit, when one of the new nurses, taking 
a liberty which an old nurse dared not, went into 
the kitchen and brought up a generous supply of 
turkey, chicken, and other of this life's good 
things, which, bountiful as it was, hardly sufficed 
to appease our ravenous appetites. We, however, 
had a few crumbs remaining from the lunch with 
which Miss Dix had supplied us for the anticipated 
voyage. 

As day after day passed, the packages which 
were to give comfort to hospital patients accumu- 
lated in unwieldy proportions. I was charged by 
the superintendent with their exclusive care, and 
with strict injunctions not to let them go from 
under my hands. 

Finally we were driven to the wharf for the 
last time, and Miss Dix pressed her carriage shawl 
upon me, deeming my wrappings insufficient for 



74 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

the inclement weather of November, which for two 
years I carried from hospital to hospital, only to 
return it to the benevolent owner when at last I 
directed my steps homeward. I had neglected to 
take a heavy garment of the kind with me only 
because I believed that in going to the sunny 
South, I was passing beyond all need of that sort 
of protection. 

"We were at last going — there could be no doubt 
of that — and with all our luggage stowed away 
we stepped on board the Keyport, and swung away 
from the wharf. 



MOUNT VERNON. 75 



CHAPTER V. H 

INDIAN SUMMER — MOUNT VERNON — THE BEAUTIFUL 8HORE3 
— POINT LOOKOUT — RIVER AND BAY — THE CLUSTERING 
COTTAGES — DREAMING BY THE WAVES — THE PINE GROVE 

— THE GLOOMY WARD — MOVED INTO THE SUNSHINE 

SNUFFING SEA BREEZES — THE CORPS OF NURSES — SIS' 
TERS OF CHARITY RENOUNCING HER FAITH THE HOS- 
PITAL FORCE " FALL IN TO DINNER " THE LOWING HERD 

SAMPLE ROLLS COLD QUARTERS NUMBED FINGERS 

LONG NIGHTS OUR RATIONS — THE LOST CHILDREN THE 

CONTRABANDS — BURROWING LIKE BEASTS — REDEEMED. 

It was an Indian-summer day, and the smoky 
light hung over the wood tops, while every sound 
echoed hollow from the near hills, where the 
cricket's chirp was loud in the tufts of grass yet 
beautifully green ; where the landscape was colored 
so brightly with beauty, that it was deeply re- 
corded in the writer's heart as a picture of peculiar 
loveliness. And yet the shores of the Potomac 
are beautiful at all seasons — the herbage growing 
beautifully green down the gentle slopes, even into 
the mellow water. 

We passed the home and tomb of "Washington. 
The historic interest attached to the place drew 
all eyes thitherward. In quiet beauty it stood, 
as yet respected by the hand of war — a monument 
which the women of the nation have been strivin"; to 



76 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

hand down, in its perfection, to the generations in 
the future. The winds stirred the clumps of ver- 
dure, which were touched with the evidences of 
decay. The ripples roughened up into billowy 
proportions, as the great wheels of the steamer 
plowed steadily on and on. 

All day we journeyed, till our eyes grew familiar 
with the changing beauty of the shores ; and then, 
as these receded, and the river widened into the 
broad expanse of bay, new and grander loveli- 
ness lay spread out before the red sunset. 

At nine o'clock in the evening we reached 
Point Lookout, and reported to Dr. Wagner, sur- 
geon in charge of the hospital. We were assigned 
comfortable quarters for the night, and after par- 
taking of supper, were only too glad to lay our 
weary selves to rest after the toilsome voj^age. 

We woke in the grey of the November morning 
to look about us, and find that our lot had been 
cast on one of the loveliest points which reach 
their slender green arms out into the shimmering 
waters of the Atlantic. On one hand the broad 
Potomac lay in its beauty, on the other the Chesa- 
peake Bay smiled in placid brightness. I here 
indulged in a walk upon a sand bar, that reached 
so far into the waters, that, with one hand, I 
dipped into the Potomac, and sprinkled its con- 
tents into the bay. 

Away back the lovely shores sloped with gentle 
undulations to the narrow strip of white, pebbly 
sand. Cottages, light-house, and all, looked like 



THE PINE GROVE. 77 

the creation of fairy hands, being diminutive in 
the distance, but broad and expansive in their 
beauty before and around me. No wonder this 
place was sought as a summer resort by those who 
preferred to lie under outstretched branches of the 
nodding trees, and 'dream away the passing days 
within sound of the lashing waves. To those who 
had made it such a resort in the summers gone, 
we were indebted for the little row of cottages, 
covering a full square, for the spacious hotel, the 
light-house, and one other building, all of which 
were surrendered for hospital purposes. 

Just back of the cluster of cottages a grove of 
graceful pines towered up, lifting their dense, 
needled leaves into the upper air. Underneath 
the shadows lay dark and oppressive. No blos- 
soms broke the mould over the dry, dead leaves 
of many summers, and the feet, hurrying through 
the gloom, were buried almost ankle deep in the 
dead foliage. A long, unfinished building stood in 
this pine wood, and in it were fifty men, occupy- 
ing iron bedsteads, who were at. once assigned to 
my care. It was evident that the place had been 
used by the Southern aristocracy as a bowling- 
alley, and within it they had passed many hours 
and days at one of their favorite games. 

In this place, shut out from the genial rays of 
the autumn sun, the patients seemed to gain 
strength slowly. They needed the healthful face of 
a smiling sky, and the soft air, through which the 
sun's golden-tipped arrows had been freshly sent. 



78 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

Therefore, after some days, the building was 
vacated, and the patients were removed to the 
cottages. After this change, to where the free sea 
breeze and bright light of heaven could wander at 
will about their hard pillows, new life seemed to 
enter their sluggish veins. 

In the November weather, sometimes chilly and 
raw, my mind, at times, wandered back to the 
hap23y summer days, while at others, I seemed to 
drink in the full beauty of the spot, and snuff the 
sea air, while watching the placid flow of the 
river. My thoughts soon, however, ran out to the 
men who were to be brought, bloody, pale, and 
suffering, from the impending battle of Fredericks- 
burg. 

To me it was a sad as well as a delightful place, 
and I at times fancied how smoothly life would 
glide with me then, if the dear old friends, who 
were there garnering up the fruits of summer, pre- 
paratory to the bitter winter, could only be with 
me, and war be unknown. But preparations were 
on every hand. A battle was inevitable, and to 
our hands they would be borne when the deadly 
work was ended, and the awful harvest-field had 
done its work. 

The patients being mostly convalescent, there 
was but little for us to do, but to mend their 
clothing, and look after their food to the full 
extent allowed. A close supervision was kept 
over us at this hospital, but we found it a trifle 
better than the one at Washinofton. 

o 



SISTERS OF CPIARITY. 79 

Our corps of women nurses numbered seventeen. 
Miss Heald, a Quakeress from Boston, was at the 
dignified post of matron. The number of patients 
reached nearly three thousand. Six surgeons were 
in our medical corps, who each had a round of 
patients, such as would have astonished the 
country practitioners, who trundled over hilly 
roads in an old-fashioned one-horse shay, before a 
civil war brought to the knife and the pill box its 
tens of thousands of brave men. Of men nurses, 
we had the usual liberal supply. A general ward 
master had supervision over all the wards, and 
each ward had its master. 

Twenty-five Sisters of Charity with their priest 
and Sister Superior had supervision over the 
patients in a part of the cottages previous to the 
finishing of the new wards, and also over the 
freshly wounded from Fredericksburg, who were 
assigned to the new quarters after their wounds 
had been once dressed. 

But our duties w^ere entirely separate from 
them. They had charge of the linen room, how- 
ever, which was on the lower floor of the hotel, and 
there we sometimes caught a glimpse of a sweet 
placid face from under the long white bonnets 
which they wore. They were ceaseless in the 
work of mercy amongst those poor sufiering sol- 
diers. They, however, did not prove entirely 
impervious to the wiles of those passions which 
belong to this earthly state, for by-and-by one of 
them was wooed by_, and fell in love with a Union 



80 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

officer. She renounced her faith, and they went 
to Seven Pines, and were united in the holy bonds 
of matrimony. Another died, and was buried in 
the wave-washed cemetery, surrounded by the 
graves of the soldiers. 

Of course, to supply daily food for establish- 
ments like ours, it required the labor of many hands. 
For the general cook-house the convalescent sol- 
diers were detailed to perform the work, superin- 
tended by an overseer, styled the general cook. 
From this kitchen came up the food for all the 
patients, in full diet, extra diet, and low diet, with 
the exception of the little delicacies which we 
had the liberty of having cooked over our mess 
stove. 

Surgeons, stewards, and nurses, each had their 
own mess — the rations being drawn from the com- 
missary. The dining-room for the patients was 
built when the hospital was first established on 
this point, in 1862, and was cajoable of seating 
about nine hundred persons. The bugle-call 
sounding for dinner was a welcome strain to 
many of these poor fellows, whose sharpened 
appetites brought visions of bountiful dainties, 
which, like the sparkling waters forever glim- 
mering in the unseen distance to the traveller on 
the desert sands, was but an illusion of the brain. 

I could not but pity them as they fell into long 
lines, and stood shivering at times in the chill rains 
and winds of November, waiting for the call 
"Fall in to Dinner." Perhaps there was no 



SAMPLE ROLLS. 81 

other way for them but to wait through the long 
half hour, exposed to the storms, and with insuffi- 
cient clothing; but busy woman's brain fancied 
that in the inexhaustible regions of contrivance 
some better way might be discovered. 

Our dairy was supplied from the milk of nine- 
teen cows that grazed upon the autumn pastures 
on the adjacent plantations. Beautiful butter 
was said to be made from the rich cream which 
rose to the snowy surface of the contents of the 
pans — indeed I think a few times we saw sample 
rolls, but not often. Officials in charge believed 
butter an indigestible article of food, and there- 
fore it was kept for the use of those whose 
stomachs were supposed to be in sound condi- 
tion. 

Sometimes we caught glimpses of the animals 
as they ranged the pastures in frosty mornings, 
and it was something like a look at peace to see 
them quietly feeding amidst the dewy grass and 
clover. 

A steam-engine, with its strong tireless arms, 
wrought for us the work of scores of men. It 
sawed the wood for the entire hospital, including 
kitchens and offices, baked the bread, boiled the 
water for washing, dried and ironed the clothes. 
One of my patients, formerly a railroad engineer, 
controlled its huge strength, and kept it at its 
varied work, forever tireless — its great heart 
throbbing forever free. 

Our quarters were in one of the cottages — and 



82 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

there, through the cold dreary weeks, till mid- 
winter, we endured the cold without sufficient bed- 
ding for our hard beds, and with no provision 
made for fires. On bitter mornings we rose shiv- 
ering, broke the ice in our pails, and washed our 
numb hands and faces, then went out into the raw 
air, up to our mess room, also without fire, thence 
to the wards to begin the distribution of the 
rations before the warmth of a stove was allowed 
to reach us. 

One blanket each was allowed us, and in the 
chilling atmosphere of the cottages it was but little 
protection against the raw sea wind which swept 
about us. If I had not been favored with the car- 
riage shawl loaned me by Miss Dix, I do not care 
to think what my condition would have become. 

We often went to the quartermaster to urge him 
to hasten along the stoves for the patients, and for 
ourselves ; but he was intemperate in his habits, 
the fire-water seemed to render him insensible to 
our needs, and when they finally did arrive from 
Baltimore, after repeated attempts they were with 
difficulty matched in pipe and elbows. On the 
first day of March we had enjoyed the luxury of a 
fire for about two weeks in our quarters — the 
patients having been supplied shortly previous. 

The cottages stood on the very edge of. the bay, 
high from the ground, with only one layer of 
boards to the floor, and when the bitter cold 
weather came upon us, in long nights, under our 
'scant bedding, on a straw tick, we lay sleepless, 



THE LOST CHILDREN". 83 

and thought of the cosy rooms which were unoc- 
cupied at home, and the bright fires which gave 
out their genial glow without stint. 

Had it been necessary we would have endured 
this without a murmur, but it was hard to think 
that one drunken inefficient man was the means 
of withholding from us what the Government was 
willing to supply for our comfort while doing its 
work. 

Our food was hardly what we had a right to ex- 
pect under the circumstances. For breakfast, we 
had bread and coffee, and occasionally a savory 
hash, that did much toward reminding us of better 
days. For dinner, roast beef, bread, potatoes, 
and sometimes boiled onions, with water for drink. 
For supper, bread and tea, browning our bread 
occasionally before the fire in lieu of butter, and, 
as a rare treat, a molasses cake. 

Sanitary stores were collected here at that time, 
but, being a novice in the art of foraging, I hdd not 
learned the way to compel them to disgorge for 
me. They were, therefore, appropriated by those 
having the advantage of seniority in the military 
service. 

Our hospital camp was guarded by a regiment 
called the " Independent Battalion," or the " Lost 
Children." Fourteen different languages were 
spoken amongst them ; and to this strange admix- 
ture of foreign element, it had been impossible to 
issue intelligible commands in battle. In the 
Shenandoah Valley they were lost from their 



84 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

corps, and were taken for guard duty at Hammond 
General Hospital. 

Their dress was a picturesque costume of blue, 
somewhat like the zouave's in style, trimmed with 
gold cord — the long leggings buttoning closely up 
to loose-flowing trowsers, and altogether presenting 
a novel and pretty uniform. 

Their quarters were in rear of the pine woods, 
and their rough shelters, leaning against the 
sombre ground-work of the dark trees, served to 
enliven the scene. 

Within tiese woods, after the bowling-alley 
was vacated, the contrabands were sole denizens. 
Amidst the dense, dark pines the}' burrowed like 
beasts of the field in half-subterranean dens. A 
hole fron' three to four feet deep was dug by them 
in the black soil, and roofed over with boards, on 
which turf was closely packed. An opening, 
which admitted them on their hands and feet, 
and one for the escape of the smoke, which went 
up from an exceedingly primitive fireplace, were 
the only vents for the impure air, and the only 
openings for light. 

In these dens men, women and children bur- 
rowed all winter, and to one of them I went one 
day to see a dead infant, only surprised that the 
dusky father and mother still breathed the breath 
of life. Bare as the barest poverty could make 
them — my heart grew sick at thought of the 
terrible straits to which human beings could be 
brought. 



REDEEMED. 85 

Government was doing all it could do for these 
people — feeding them, and giving them protection 
within our. lines ; but would there ever be a time 
when they should emerge out of the darkness 
which enveloped them like a thunder-cloud, and 
be a self-reliant, self-supporting people. When 
the thoughtless indolence of the generation, which 
has been burthened with no care for the morrow, 
shall pass away, then perhaps into the souls of a 
new generation the lessons of industry and self- 
reliance will be instilled, and the race be re- 
deemed. 



86 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 



CHAPTER VI. 

THANKSGIVING — THE NOTE — THOUGHTS OP . FRIENDS — THE 

BATTLE — ELEVEN HUNDRED WOUNDED DRESSING THE 

WOUNDS — home! THE ONE THOUGHT OF THE SOUL — 
MOTHER AND WIFE — THE VISION — HOME-SICKNESS — THE 
NEW WARD — MAKING SMOOTH PATHS — ARBITRARY RE- 
MOVALS — CHANGING SURGEONS — THE STOLEN RATIONS — 
SENDING FOR STORES — PLEADING IN VAIN — OYSTERS AND 
APPLE-PIE. 

Thanksgiving Day came and went. The little 
incident of preparing mince meat for eighty pies, a 
day or so previous, receiving in return half of the 
baked pies from the cook-house, and distributing 
from an eighth to a quarter of one, according to 
patient, marked it from other hospital days. 

"With the forty pies, I received the following 
characteristic note from the commissary : — 

Thanksgiving Day, November 27th, 1862, 
Miss Bucklin : — Be thankful for all you receive, and if 
more is needed write me. Take care of the plates that I 
may return them to whom they belong. 

♦ Let your thanks arise, as you swallow the pies, 
And be sure that you eat enough ; 
And if more of such feed, you think you will need, 
Let me know, for there's plenty of stuff. 

Will R. 



THE BATTLE. 87 

That day we thought in silence of groups 
gathered around bountifully spread tables, at 
which those who sat missed our faces, and we 
turned to our work, striving by a show of cheerful- 
ness, which it was impossible to feel, to cheat these 
poor fellows of the sad task of brooding over home 
scenes, and home comforts, which so many were 
never to know. 

December winds howled through pine grove 
and leafless tree tops. The wdiite billows ran 
upon the shore and broke in their mad reckless 
course. The shock of battle came at last in the 
sudden upheaval of the volcano of war. From 
out the hot crater lurid fires flamed, and the 
admonitory quakings, and far-off rumblings of 
internal struggling had ended in the earthquake. 

Molten lead had been poured into the living 
ranks until there ran streams of blood. From out 
the quivering mass, they brought to us eleven 
hundred men, with tangled hair, and begrimed 
faces, whose uniforms were covered with the dirt 
of the rifle-pits and barricades, and were reeking 
with the smoke of the battle. They were landed 
while we were busy with our duties in the respec- 
tive wards, and one cold afternoon the call of the 
steward, " Turn Out to Help Dress the Wounds," 
sounded to me like a death-knell. Men fresh 
from the gory field had never been under my 
hands as yet, and with a quaking at my heart I 
went out with the hospital force, to do my duty 
toward the suffering and shattered men. 



88 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

Beds were to be made, hands and faces stripped 
of the hideous mask of blood and grime, matted 
hair to be combed out over the bronzed brows, 
and gaping wounds to be sponged with soft water, 
till cleaned of the gore and filth preparatory to 
the dressing. I busied myself with everything 
save touching the dreadful wounds till I could 
evade it no longer. Then with all my resolution 
I nerved myself to the task and bound up the 
aching limbs. 

Before ten o'clock the wounds were all dressed, 
and the soldiers comfortably in beds, occupying 
the new hospital for the first time. Then oh ! with 
what fidelity in times of sore distress the troubled 
heart turns in memory to the sacred altar of 
Home ! When danger and death have been faced, 
and from the long fierce struggle the brother, or 
husband, or son has been borne to the hospital 
seared and bleeding, to thee, oh ! father, wife, 
mother, or sister that wounded soldier turns, and 
gives his first uttered thoughts ! 

" Bring pen and ink and paper, that I may let 
them know at home that I still live, though I lie 
weak, maimed, and helpless on a hospital bed 1" 

Oh ! mother if you had a son who has given you 
cause to weep bitter tears over his erring ways — 
who spurned your counsels when you warned him 
of the result of his evil deeds, be assured that on 
the battle field he remembered your kind admoni- 
tions, and would have given worlds had he heeded 
them. 



THE VISION. 89 

Oh ! wife, did coldness creep between you and 
the husband of your youth ? did he neglect you 
for the company of the ungodly, and send your 
little babes with profane words from his side. Be 
comforted, for in the hospital he repented of the 
wrong he did your faithful heart, and when ex- 
cruciating pains racked his wounded body, he 
knew how soft the touch of your hand would be 
on his fevered face, and how you would move 
heaven and earth to minister to his many wants. 

Home would appear to these men in fair and liv- 
ing colors. It might have been a low, humble shel- 
ter by the lonely roadside, where only few passed 
to feel an instinctive pity for the dwellers within 
it ; but he thought, when the summer weather had 
wreathed its roses over the small window-panes, 
and the old apple tree was hanging its leafy 
boughs over the well-sweep, and the garden patch 
was giving promise of good dinners to come, that 
it was a pleasant spot, although so far away from 
the bustle of towns, and the din of cities. 

On the hard beds, how many thought of some 
snug little room, with pillows of down resting on 
high soft beds, over which lay the spotless white 
quilt, wrought in flowery patterns by loved fingers, 
and sighed to be within its narrow walls, with 
doors and windows open to the woods and hills, 
every nook of which was familiar to their sturdy 
feet. 

Many a poor fellow so set his heart on these 
beguiling visions of home, that from sheer home- 



90 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

sickness alone he died. Care, medicine, diet were 
at times of no avail, so long as the one sharp pang 
of absence cut at the sinking heart, and so they 
passed beyond the veil. For them to-day many 
eyelids droop over wet eyes, as the lips speak of 
the soldier who died in the hospital when the 
battle was ended, and after he had lived to tell 
the 'story of the fight. 

How their eyes seemed to sparkle, when they 
talked to us of home. They would often ask us 
to come in and sit by them, while they told us of 
the dear waiting ones; and at times smiles would 
illumine their pale faces, as they spoke the grati- 
tude of full hearts, that they were spared to 
return perhaps to the loved ones within the far- 
off family circle. 

The upper story of the hotel, with two halls 
running at right angles, and crossing in the 
middle, and from which forty-one rooms opened, 
was assigned to my care for the winter. In these 
rooms ninety six men were lying, mostly wounded, 
and my duties were to give the medicines ; dis- 
tribute the food on plates at the scullery, desig- 
nating to whom, and into what room it must be 
taken ; comb heads, and wash the faces of those 
unable to do so for themselves ; see that every- 
thing about their beds and clothing was in right 
condition; prepare what delicacies I could pro- 
cure for their comfort, and dress wounds. 

At this date, although there was a special time, 
and a special nurse appointed for wound-dressing, 



ARBITRARY REMOVALS. 91 

there were so many, and of such an aggravated 
character, that some of us were kept busy at that 
duty nearly all the time. And many preferred 
the lighter, the gentler hand of a woman. 

In this hospital we were allowed to do much of 
this work at all times, it being optional with the 
ward surgeons in the different hospitals what 
duties should be assigned to the nurses. Perhaps 
it may be well for the reader to understand that 
on this surgeon depended also, in a great meas- 
ure, the quiet or discomfort of our situations. 

It was in his power to make our paths smooth, 
or to throw disagreeable things in the way which 
would make our positions extremely unpleasant, 
and subject us to no ordinary annoyance. Yet 
no murmur or complaint dared pass the lips of a 
hospital nurse, for disgrace and dismissal only 
awaited the beck of his authoritative hand. 

At that time it was a question of tolerance with 
him whether she remained or not, for it was in 
his power to procure her relief papers at any 
moment. Happily, this arbitrary method of dis- 
posing of persons, which, although they might be 
personally obnoxious, yet were good and efficient 
nurses, doing a valuable work for the Government 
in saving her soldiers for duty and alleviating the 
sufferings of the wounded heroes, was done away 
with a little later in the progress of the war, when 
it was officially ordered that the reasons for the 
discharge of any woman nurse should be endorsed 
upon the certificate of her removal. 



92 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

Previous to this order, which was not issued 
until October 29th, 1863, Miss Dix was subject to 
much annoyance by the frequent appearance of 
her competent nurses, who had been ordered to 
report to her by some domineering surgeon, whose 
love of power had been thwarted in some manner. 

The surgeon in charge of this ward, when I 
first entered it, was a fine, generous-hearted man, 
who was interested in everything pertaining to the 
welfare of his men, and he gave me unstinted 
orders for sugar, butter, eggs, and other articles, 
with which I could prepare delicacies for the faint 
appetites, which revolted at the food sent up from 
the general cook-house. 

The ward master also had it in his power to give 
us a world of annoyance, but, fortunately, the one in 
charge of my beat was a co-worker with the surgeon 
in all efforts to promote the comfort of the men. 
When, by daily contrast with other overseers of 
other wards, I was congratulating myself on my 
good fortune in being placed where such generous 
men held control, an order came, sending them to 
another beat, and strangers stepped into their 
places. 

It was but a short time before I learned, to my 
regret, that I had men of an entirely different 
stamp with whom to deal, and, with envious eyes, 
I looked over to the new hospital, where the 
Sisters of Charity were enjoying the rule of our 
lost surgeon and ward master. 

Instead of the kind, " Nurse, what would you 



THE STOLEN RATIONS. 93 

like for your men to-day," if I made a request for 
butter, sugar, eggs, or milk, I was met by a volley 
of oaths, and a loud, " Didn't I give you an order 
for a pound of sugar yesterday?" A pound of 
sugar for ninety men, when each was entitled to a 
large spoonful a day from Government supplies, 
and we must be content with a pound to distribute 
for three or four days amongst ninety men ! 

Some one was living on the rations of these poor 
men, who were suffering and starving for the Avant 
of them. It seemed enough to soften a heart of 
stone to hear them beg for their rightful food, 
and be denied when others feasted on the stolen 
supply. I could do nothing but take the food fre- 
quently, which I needed myself to keep up strength 
and courage, and give it to them, which was also 
a forbidden thing, but we did it often and again, 
and for a whole day I have gone with wretched 
hunger gnawing at my healthy stomach — glad to 
do so, if not detected — that some poor fellow's 
hunger might be satisfied. 

Often the extra rations were taken from the 
tray, as they were being sent up to the men, 
which, being once sent, were all that could be 
obtained till the next meal, and if that chanced to 
occur again, the men had to remain in a starving 
condition day after day, unjess, by some strategy, 
we could elude the vigilance of our wretched over- 
seer, and substitute something for what had been 
lost. 

The stimulants often went the same way, and 



94 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

woe to the unhappy being who crossed the path 
of the official creature, when throwing oflf the 
effects of his debauch. 

There were various ways by which we strove to 
obtain possession of things to make up for every 
lack of supplies. Many letters were written to 
the friends of soldiers from the North, and boxes 
were forwarded, the contents of which rejoiced our 
hearts, and made our patients glad indeed. We 
took thence just what the sick soldiers wanted, 
and saw the joyous sparkle of the eye, which 
a moment before was languid with hope deferred. 
Often we begged of the Sanitary Commission — 
sometimes were repulsed like street beggars by 
the very men who were fattening on the choice 
things sent by many a kind-hearted mother, with 
tearful hopes that her boy might taste a share, if, 
by the chances of sickness or war, he was sent into 
the hospital. 

We have begged ofttimes in vain, while those 
who were sent out to distribute the stores sat in 
their tents, and used the Sanitary tobacco, and 
drank the wine, and ate the canned fruit and 
meats, until, with bitterness in our hearts, we 
returned to meet pleading eyes, and hungry, 
pinched features. I do not wish to be understood 
as casting any reflections upon the good mission 
which the Sanitary Commission performed, for 
many noble-souled men were with it at times, 
engaged in dealing out from its abundance with 
commendable honesty and manliness, and then the 



OYSTEES AND APPLE-PIE. 95 

duty was done without withholding from the right- 
ful owners to adorn the tables of their own tents. 

An Irish family lived half a mile from us, who 
kept a cow, and employed themselves at gathering 
oysters. They furnished those of us, who walked 
that distance, with dried apple pies — the crust 
made of flour and water — for twenty-five cents. 
A Northern housekeeper may know to what 
straits we were reduced, when we say that we 
eagerly walked to the place through rain and 
shine, the mud over shoe deep, to gratify the 
homesick wants of some poor fellow, who put 
little value on his currency when he was starv- 
ing. 

We cooked the oysters for them, when we could 
accomplish that feat without danger of the scent 
of the smoke reaching the wards. I thought it 
a trying thing, to be thus circumscribed in privi- 
leges, when they had cost no one but the soldiers 
and ourselves either money or time, but it was 
only my initiation into hardships. I was just 
striking the stormy waves of humanity. The 
bufietings, and rude jarring against the sharp 
rocks of military law were new to me then. I 
hardly thought I should grow so callous as to 
fling back word for word, and almost dare a blow 
for a blow. 



96 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 



CHAPTER VII. 

BEING RELIEVED — THE ORDER COUNTERMANDED — ANOTHER 

RELIEF — AGAIN COUNTERMANDED THE ANGRY OFFICIAL 

— THE DUTCH STEWARD — " VAT ISH DI8 " THE ITALIAN 

OFFICER CURED THE GRANITE HEART BRINGING 

CORPSES — TIME SPEEDING THE SNOW STORM — SOMEWHAT 

DIMMED — UNHOLY DEEDS — THE DROWNED — THE ROBBER 
HANDS. 

An incident of an unpleasant character occurred 
to me while Miss Ella Wolcott was absent in 
Washington, during which absence I had charge 
of her ward, in addition to my own duties — an 
incident which pointed to a disgraceful dismissal 
from the service, when I was unconscious of hav- 
ing committed any wrong, but, on the contrary, 
fully convinced that great injustice was being 
done to me in some shape, and by some one. 

The ward surgeon had given me the key of the 
cupboard, in which the delicacies and stimulants 
were kept, and requested me also to distribute the 
rations to the patients, I consenting to the arrange- 
ment. A few days passed when the ward master, 
getting hungry, entered complaint to the steward 
that I had usurped his position, and taken his 
duties from out his hands. 

Shortly after, I was engaged one morning on 



THE ANGRY OFFICIAL. 97 

my accustomed round, when the ward master 
entered, saying, " The steward wishes to see you." 
I replied, " I am here, he can see me," not dream- 
ing that I was expected to go out into the drench- 
ing rain, then falling, to suit his pleasure. Pre- 
sently I was accosted by his sharp voice, in which* 
there was an evident leaning toward severity, 
with the question, " Vat for you don't give up de 
key to de cupboard ?" 

I said I was unaware of its being required, that 
it had been given me by the surgeon, on complaint 
of the patients that their choicest food had been 
appropriated by the ward master, and male nur- 
ses. 

"You had no right to de key," the Dutch 
steward insisted ; " give it up dis moment, you 
shall be relieved for dis," he added. 

I retired to my quarters, and in an hour my re- 
lief papers were handed me by an orderly. 
Stung by the injustice, I went directly to our 
good matron, and laid the case before her. She 
was troubled, and determined that the order 
should be countermanded. The surgeon in charge 
of the hospital being absent at that time, Dr. 
Gardner was acting surgeon, and to him Miss 
He aid sent her orderly. I was soon summoned to 
appear before him, and give a detailed account of 
the affair. 

I was in the kitchen making ginger cakes for 
supper, and when the summons came my hands 
were deep in the dark dough. But military law 



98 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

knows no delay, and I went, with doughy hands 
and sleeves pinned up, while the desperation of des- 
pair nerved me with unusual courage. 

I explained away the charge to his entire satis- 
faction, and he said, " Miss Bucklin, you may go 
*to your quarters, and to your duties in the morn- 
ing — for I countermand that order." 

With a load taken from me, I returned to finish 
my work. At tea time I noticed an unusual com- 
motion around our quarters — an orderly with 
papers going in and out, and when I repaired 
thither, I found my second relief papers lying con- 
spicuously on my bed. 

I could hardly believe my senses — to be thus 
plunged, for the second time, into the depths of 
disgrace. I repaired to Miss Heald at once for 
counsel, while nearer and nearer the boat was 
approaching the wharf, and on its return trip, 
I was ordered to leave for Washington to report to 
Miss Dix. 

In sorrow we saw no way of escape. The sur- 
geon in charge was absent, and there was no one 
to whom we could appeal. I sorrowfully re- 
turned to my quarters, thinking of those to whom 
I could not even speak the good-by, and, getting up 
my limited possessions, I prepared to leave Point 
Lookout. 

The steamer touched the wharf — the surgeon in 
charge on board. Miss Heald's orderly conducted 
him immediately to her quarters, and, indignant at 
the relief of one of his nurses, by those who had 



THE DUTCH STEWARD. 99 

no authority to do so in his absence, he counter- 
manded the order, and again I breathed free. 
Things moved quietly along for several days, 
when one morning, while busy in my quarters 
the steward passed the door, and halted in 'sur- 
prise. 

" Why you not go to "Washington as ordered ?" 
he said, flushing up with* feeling at finding his 
commands so disregarded. 

" Because I had orders to remain," I rej^lied. 

*' Orders from whom," he questioned. 

" From one who had the authority to give 
them," I said, and he left me, muttering to himself, 
and wondering who '" the d 1 " it could be. 

From this hospital steward, who assumed as 
much dignity as a major-general was entitled to, 
we often received much annoyance. Patients and 
nurses alike grew to dislike the sound of his voice, 
and the tramp of his feet. Nothing could be 
found about the bed of a patient without subject- 
ing the owner to -some punishment, either lying 
stripped of clothing, in bed if ill ; or a diet of 
bread and water ; or the guard-house, if able to be 
taken there. 

For one patient, who craved eggs dropped into 
boiling water for his daily food, and who?e 
stomach could not bear them cold as they were 
brought in from the nearest cook-house, I pro- 
cured a stew-pan, and cooked them on the stove 
which stood in tlie hall of the ward. Our steward 
coming in unexpectedly one day, foutid tlie pan 



100 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

sitting by the stove, waiting to be washed. He 
called out to me, " Vat ish dis ?" . 

"A frying-pan, sir." 

"Vat you use it for?" 

"-To cook eggs in, sir." 

An order was immediately issued to the ejfifect 
that not a single article of food should be cooked 
on the stoves in the wards. The surgeon under 
whose orders I had acted in preparing the eggs 
for the sick man, however, highly resented this 
interference, and said, " Jam everything you 
want to cook inio the stove, there isn't an order 
against that." So iiito the stove the eggs went, 
and they were cooked and eaten hot as before. 

An Italian, an official from the regiment doing 
guard duty at Point Lookout, was a patient in my 
ward, receiving from the mess table little atten- 
tions in the shape of coffee, and articles of food of 
a somewhat relishable character. The coffee-pot 
was put on the stove in the hall for the purj)ose 
of warming its contents. -Our. steward found it 
there one day, and straightway ordered the officer 
to bed, on a diet of bread and water. Eesistance 
was made — for the officer outranking any one in 
the hospital, was furious at the insult — and he 
stalked away to headquarters, where a great com- 
motion was kept up for some time. It was so far 
away, however, that wrathy words could not be 
heard by us. He never returned to the ward — 
the storm of indignation swept all illness away, 
and he went to his regiment, no doubt entertain- 



BRINGING CORPSES. 101 

ing a poor opinion of hospitals, and hospital stew- 
ards. 

The question of rank was at that time before 
Congress, and this steward, in advance of its being 
settled, required and insisted on being saluted 
with military honor whenever he appeared, or 
was met by us in the ward. By most of us the 
burly figure, inspiring anything but respect, 
was passed time and again without an ordinary 
effort at recognition, which brought, of course, a 
whole train of his indignation thundering down 
upon us. 

Men died on the transports while seeking the 
hospital, only making port to be transferred to 
Government coffins, and be interred on the wave- 
washed shore. It seemed a hard necessity which 
demanded this removal, but the stern military 
law had a granite heart, and the piteous moans 
and beseeching voices pleading to be left to die 
rather than to be tortured by the slow process of 
travel, had no more visible effect than the rain 
v\' ashing the stony front of a mountain. 

If individual officers, with human hearts, were 
actuated by pitj^, as they ofttimes were, they were 
powerless to be generous. True to themselves in 
this, the dead men were brought to us, and 
coffins were furnished to cover the poor clay from 
further exposure. 

One boat brought five corpses, and while the 
order for the coffins was being filled, another one 
died just as the boat touched the shore. Our inhu- 



102 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

man Dutch steward, in his perplexity, could not 
understand why he had not died before, or, at 
least, waited till within the hospital limits. He 
went capering about, undecided how to dispose of 
the stiffening body, and muttering to himself, 
" He pelongs neither to de boat nor de hospital 
- — what for he die now — what for he die now ?" 

Sad as the event seemed to us, we could not 
resist a smile at the ludicrous manner of the 
obnoxious steward, who, in his dull comprehen- 
sion of the mystery of death, could not under- 
stand why the man had chosen this unfavorable 
opportunity to succumb in the struggle for life. 

We sighed over the dead soldier, and watched 
them bear his uncoffined remains to the dead- 
house, to join his pallid companions, while the 
steward was constrained to order a coffin. 

In the daily routine of our life time sped. 
Sometimes on swift wings — sometimes slowly 
creeping through dull damp days, when air and 
earth, and sea, were of the leaden hue of despond- 
ency. Our hearts occasionally sunk in the pres- 
ence of a miser}^, and consequent home-sickness, 
which we had no power to charm away. 

Two snow storms occurred through the winter. 
The driving sea wind, which was brisk at all 
times, was then full of the wildly-sweeping flakes 
of snow which melted as they fell, until dark, deep, 
soft mud covered the feet of the throngs whicli 
turned out from quarters to ward, at the bugle-call. 
Once I was caught in the storm, and eight o'clock 



THE DROWNED. 103 

summoned me to repair to the nurses' quarters. 
With feet encased in a pair of boots belonging to 
a patient, I assayed the hidden path, which led to 
the cottages, but stumbled and blundered in my 
unaccustomed foot-ge;\r — fallhig, and finding it 
almost impossible to rise in my over-exertion, and 
with limbs so weighed down. With the salt 
spray dashing into my face, with the sharp wind 
and snow blinding me, I reached at last a shelter, 
and crept shivering into bed. 

The beauty of the Point was somewhat dimmed 
by the morning light, and my enthusiastic admira- 
tion of it somewhat dampened by the names by 
which homesick soldiers designated it, such as 
" Point of Misery," " Point of Despair." Hope 
deferred had clouded their vision. The yearnings 
after home, and home comforts, the restive heart 
throbbing, too, for the active combat; the dull 
routine of hospital life would have made a dreary, 
desolate place of the loveliest spot on earth, before 
the minds of those disabled men. 

Deeds of foul import were sometimes hidden by 
the dense pines, and in the seething waters of the 
bay, although the waves did not always engulf 
the murdered dead, or the darkness of the woods 
conceal from the light of day the wretched men 
who were felled by robber hands. 

A man was found dead on the beach, who had 
been missed for weeks, and was known to have 
had quite a sum of money in his possession, but 
nothing was found on his person, when, dripping 



104 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

and swollen, the waves cast him upon the sands. 
No one may ever know what hand gave him the 
death-blow, but some unholy heart aches with the 
burthen of this awful crime, and seeks to cast it 
out, and rid the blood-stained hand of the foul 
spots that even a seared conscience must fix there. 
Two men went to a house in the pines, pur- 
chased some little article, and handed a five dollar 
bill in payment. The change was withheld, and, 
before they had time to remonstrate, two shots 
were fired at them, one only scraping the temple 
of the one, but failing to take life. Reinforce- 
ments arriving for the villains from some un- 
known quarter, both men were knocked down, 
dragged away, and left to remain in the bitter 
cold through the wintry night, the oozing blood 
congealing into icy hardness, and freezing fast 
the cap of the wounded man. Both recovered, 
but had good cause to remember ever after the 
rebel inhabitants of Maryland, who were scat- 
tered over Point Lookout, 



burnside's fleet. 105 



CHAPTER VIII. 

A.N ALLURING SPOT — BURNSIDe's FLEET — DIED FOR HIS 
COUNTRY — WAKING TO TUB REAL — MY LITTLE FRIEND — 
THE UNREAD LETTERS — DEAD — UNDER THE PINES — THE 
WAVE- WASHED CEMETERY — " NO SOUND CAN AWAKE HIM " 
—-THE UNNATURAL APPETITE — WIDOWED AND FATHER- 
LESS ANOTHER DEAD — NOT PROFESSIONAL REGRET THE 

DISTRESSED MOTHER — GETTING A DISCHARGE — GONE — THE 

LAST DEATH THE NEW MATRON — MASCULINE CONTEMPT 

SOME SUBTILE POWER THE PET BLACKS — EBONY' LUMPS 

BITTER FEELINGS GENUINE DEVOTION — SOUNDED — NO 

DEPTH RELIEVED SAYING "GOOD-By" — THE SLEEPING 

BOY — ON THE POTOMAC — SPRING'S FIRST SIGNALS — UN- 
FEIGNED SURPRISE A SNATCH OF REPOSE. 

In bright days, when the raw winds were tem- 
pered by the genial smiles of the sun, the piazza, 
which ran on three sides of the hotel, and which 
was accessible from the halls, was an alluring 
place. I have often counted as many as thirty- 
five boats dotting the river and bay; and when the 
eye grew tired of the sea, there stood the lovely 
land, the pine woods through which the low 
winds swept with musical murmurs amidst the 
trembling of the leaves. 

From this lookout I saw Burnside's fleet of 
seventy steamers gliding down on his North Caro- 
lina expedition. It was about ten o'clock in the 



106 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

morning when it passed our hospital. We knew 
that brave and loyal hearts beat upon those decks, 
and that proud, stalwart men were there, the em- 
bodiment of love and courage in many a waiting 
heart, which, in its Northern home, prayed for the 
safe return of its idol. We knew that disease and 
death lurked for them in treacherous swamps, and 
on pine-clad hill slopes, whither they were going, 
and that many a grave in that now unbroken sod 
was waiting to receive a bloody hero in its arms, 
and tliat ever after, far away from the place of his 
rest, his name would be spoken in tones of hushed 
sadness, and the evergreen garlands be woven in 
memory of the beloved soldier who died for his 
countr3^ 

While gazing out upon the billowy stretch of 
waters, and back again to the land, rich in its 
quiet loveliness, I could not but lift my heart 
upward in petition that all the sufferings of my 
country might speedily be healed. If all was but 
peace, what a rare life it would seem to live where 
the soft-lipped waves kissed the white sands of 
that lovely shore. But groans would awake me 
to a sense of the terrible duty which brought me 
thus far from home. My heart held my country 
and its heroes dearest, and I turned from the 
bright, winding river to bend over the beds of some 
who had been very nigh to death, and give a little 
ray of comfort to others, who were fast drifting into 
the cold current. 

A beautiful boy, whose home was in Philadel- 



DEAD. 107 

phia, was declining slowly — still declining. He 
had suffered an amputation, although he said to 
me, " I had rather die than lose my arm." Every- 
thing that could be done to save him proved of no 
avail. He suffered intensely, and, during his wild 
flights in his delirium, he fancied that they had 
come to take me to the guard-house, for having 
cared too much for his comfort. 

He would say, " It's too bad — too bad, to put 
you there for staying so long to take care of your 
poor little Shoe." (His name was Sylvester Shoe.) 
" You must go to your quarters, quick. Good- 
night — come and see me first in the morning, and 
bring some of those nice oysters." 

Morning dawned, but he was conscious only for 
a moment at a time, and I saw the end was nigh. 
That day he received two letters from home, but 
he was not in condition to know their contents. 
When I came to him, he said, " Put them under 
my pillow," which I did. 

The letters were lying there when his spirit 
took its flight from the poor racked body of the 
beautiful boy. I procured, from the stores which 
had been sent to us for distribution from home, 
the necessary clothing in which to shroud his body ; 
had him properly washed, and arrayed for burial, 
and his corpse was taken to the dead-house, to 
await the hour of burial, (In the hospitals, dear 
reader, four o'clock in the afternoon was the hour 
for burials.) 

The chaplain and myself, with a corporal and 



108 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

five soldiers, followed the ambulance accompanied 
by the fife and drum, and his remains were 
lowered into a grave amongst the pines, which 
grew so closely to the waters edge, that I thought, 
with a shudder, that at high water the breakers 
would leap sportively over that narrow bed. 
Yet I knew that no sound of their angry career- 
ing could awaken the dear boy, who was to sleep 
within it, to sorrow or pain again. 

The chaplain repeated the burial service for the 
soldier dead — earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to 
dust; the sexton threw down the gravelly clay 
upon the coffin of my little friend ; over the grave 
three rounds were fired, and then we turned away 
to the living who awaited us in the hospital, while 
the grave digger formed a little mound over all 
that was left of Sylvester Shoe. 

I directed a friend, who came too late to see 
him, to that grave on the bank of the Potomac, 
beneath the murmuring pines, and to him I gave 
a lock of his auburn hair, and related the particu- 
lars of his death. 

Two more deaths occurred soon afterwards from 
amputation of the arm. One of them seemed to 
possess an unusual appetite, craving the strongest 
food, and daily begging for that which I could not 
obtain. It so happened one day that we had the 
food each meal which he had so much wanted, 
when 1 supplied him, gladly fasting myself. 

I shall never outlive the feeling that his was an 
unnecessary amputation, although I do not mean 



WIDOWED AND FATHERLESS. 109 

to censure or arraign the judgment of any one;- 
but his wound was only that of a bullet through 
the fleshy part of the arm, and it seemed to be 
doing as well as could be expected. After the 
amputation, which did not discharge properly, his 
symptoms grew fatal, and when he died, seven or 
eight days afterwards, he was bloated to a mis- 
shapen, monstrous size, whilst his body was al- 
most as transparent as glass. He left a wife and 
six children, and his latest thoughts and words 
were about the one who was so soon to be 
widowed, and the fatherless, and the little unborn 
babe which would come into his desolate home 
under the cloud of sadness. 

The next man I visited about five o'clock in the 
afternoon, directly after the ^amputation had been 
performed, and I bathed his face, combed his 
hair, gave him an apple, and prepared him a nice 
cooling drink, and supposed him to be doing well. 
While preparing him for the night he expressed a 
desire to see his arm, and I took down the glass to 
gratify his wish. He looked long and earnestly at 
the bandaged stump, and then said, " I don't 
know whether I shall recover from this or not, if 
I don't, under my head is a nice new blanket 
which I lately drew, and which I want you to 
have." I promised to take it if he did not live, 
but saw no reason why he should not, and talked 
encouragingly to him, and said I would see hini 
early in the morning. 

The following day I was passing along, mj 



110 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

• duties already begun, when the ward master met 
me with, " Pennsylvania is dead, and gone to the 
dead-house." How my heart sunk within me, for 
this was the third death that had come so sud- 
denly upon me. The surgeon was so much sur- 
prised that he ordered a post-mortem examination, 
and found death the result of inward causes, 
while the arm was doing well. I was not per- 
mitted to see him, although I begged for the 
privilege. 

None can tell the sickness of heart which filled 
our souls when such stern realities confronted us. 
It was not the professional regret, which filled the 
heart of the nurse at the loss of her patient — 
higher and above all such feelings, which would at 
once reflect upon her capacity and integrity, the 
sorrow of the hospital nurse, as she grieved over 
each successive dead one, was as the sorrow of a 
sister over the fallen remains of a brave and true 
brother. 

A mother came on to our hospital to nurse her 
fast sinking son. Nothing availed to fix a cure 
upon him, while home-sickness drank-low the foun- 
tain of his life ; and she thought, if he were only 
at home, new hope and vigor would rise, and he 
would yet be spared to her. He had failed to re- 
ceive a furlough, and the distressed mother saw 
him slowly but surely passing down into the dark 
valley. 

She took the boat and went to Washington, to 
intercede with the President for his discharge. 



THE LAST DEATH. Ill 

Slie was ushered into his presence, but was so over- 
come by the rush of feehngs tbat she burst into 
a tlood of tears and was speechless with emotion. 

The tender heart of the man before her, was 
melted at the sight, and he said, "Make known 
your request, madam, I promise to grant it, what- 
ever it may be." 

She told liim of her dying son, and at once re- 
ceived his discharge and transportation home. 
The mother returned on the next boat, and 
reached Point Lookout at seven o'clock in the 
evening, and at eight the boy died. It was "His- 
tressing to witness the grief of the poor, grey- 
haired mother, as she bent over the clay, which 
could return no more the many caresses lavished 
on pale lip and brow ; but God alone could com- 
fort her, we knew, and so we let the storm of grief 
sweep on in silence. 

Back to her lonely home she went, bearing him 
a lifeless corpse whom she had hoped to take 
thence, and nurse into health and strength 
again. 

An old man, who was brought in from another 
ward in a dying condition, was the last death 
which occurred amongst the ninety-six men under 
my charge. 

Miss D. L, Dix, with Mrs. Gibbons, the former 
matron of the hospital, appeared to our wondering 
eyes one February morning, presaging some 
change in the even tenor of our life. 

To Miss Dix's inquiry of Surgeon Wagner, 



112 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

whom she met on the sands, how her nurses were 
getting along, the reply of, " Splendidly, as well as 
I could ask," settled the fact in her mind that no 
removals were necessary, and Mrs. Gibbons signi- 
fying her intention of again assuming the matron- 
ship of the hospital, Miss Dix left for Fortress 
Monroe, whither she was bound, desiring to reach 
her destination before the impending storm should 
break over us. 

Mrs. Gibbons was accompanied by five w^omen, 
to whom she assigned places in the hospital, and 
as so many were not needed, amongst the fast 
decreasing numbers whose wounds were rapidly 
healing, she began the work of relieving Miss 
Dix's nurses, and assigning her own to their 
places. 

I have no wish to speak disparagingly of any 
one. I wish to detail frankly and fearlessly the 
events as they occurred, and as Miss Dix was, by 
the authority of the War^Department, vested with 
the power of full superintendence over all women 
nurses in the military hospitals, it was our duty 
and wish to report to her, and receive such situa- 
tions as she saw fit to give us. 

Mrs. Gibbons had not informed Miss Dix that 
the five young women accompanying her were to 
supersede her own nurses ; they sat in silence, 
unmentioned, when she signified her intention of 
remaining, after being questioned by Miss Dix. 
Her strong Quaker sense of personal independence 
— ^her masculine contempt for all women not 



SOME SUBTILE POWER. 113 

endowed with her energetic, unyielding will, ren- 
dered it exceedingly distasteful to her to recognize 
any superiority in the chosen Superintendent of 
Women Nurses in the Military Hospitals of the 
Union. 

Miss Dix was unaware of her return from New 
York, and was only made cognizant of her inten- 
tion to remain when at Miss Heald's headquar- 
ters, and this ignoring of Miss Dix's authorized 
position, in the opinion of her nurses, seemed a 
breach of military law without precedent. 

It was impossible for me to attempt to see any- 
thing lovely or feminine in the character of the 
new matron. The sharp censorious scanning of 
the features of any woman, not so far developed 
in rugged strength of will as herself, was exceed- 
ingly annoying, and it was difficult for us to 
assume an air of indifference. 

It was a mystery to many why she held the 
power she did — why she was not responsible to 
Miss Dix like other nurses and matrons, and 
why, although all in authority demurred, she still 
retained her position, and removed surgeons and 
nurses alike. Some subtile power of control she 
had attained — -and all within reach of her sharp 
questionings bowed before it. 

After being relieved from the Point, I received 
letters, and was cautioned as to what I wrote, 
and directed to burn what I received immediately, 
" For Mrs. Gibbons knows everything," the re- 
mark ran. She did seem, in her knowledge of 



114 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

the disaffection of nurses and all other employees, 
to be almost omniscient. 

Some spies she had, who, creeping about our 
quarters, obtained some information, doubtless re- 
ceiving favor as the reward of their highly honor- 
able services. 

That a conscientious regard for the well-being 
of the blacks could be entertained, without taking 
them like pets into the bosom of one's family, I 
knew by long personal experience, and that due 
thought could be given them in suppljing them 
with wholesome food and decent clothing, I was 
likewise certain. 

That proper respect should also be shown to the 
feelings of the soldiers who were figliting for tlie 
idea of universal liberty — that they should be 
treated equally as well as those newly emanci- 
pated, dusky sons of the Republic, was more and 
more impressed upon my mind. Mrs. Gibbons 
had near her a circle of negroes, who, the soldiers 
in bitterness said, had cream in their tea and 
coffee, and were given hot beefsteaks, and, " That 
is where our rations go too," was the added excla- 
mation. 

Little lumps of ebony were occasionally carried 
about the ward, to the no little annoyance of sol- 
diers who turned shudderingly from the contrast 
which memory suggested of fair Saxon babies in 
far Northern homes. Bitter feelings were invited, 
and instead of a sympathy toward the negro, in 
times so critical to his race, and in minds so 



GENUINE DEVOTION. 115 

wrought upon by sickness and wounds — in cases 
almost innumerable, a hatred was engendered 
wliicli would have eventuated in a riot, if the sol- 
diers bad had the means and strength at their 
command. 

A devotion of such character to the interests of 
the contraband, wdien wounded and dying heroes 
needed care and sympathy, evinced an evil judg- 
ment. The contrabands were fed and protected, 
while hundreds of brave white men were de- 
prived of wdiat would have been common fare at 
home. We knew them to suffer from want of 
ordinary diet, and saw better food distributed to 
negroes, with whom corn-bread and bacon had 
been luxurious living. 

There is no one in this broad land, who, regard- 
less of prejudice, can justify an unwholesome pan- 
dering after associations of this kind, or who can 
regard with favor this palpable injustice toward 
the men who stood between our homes and the 
guns of the enemy. 

After a few days had passed, I was asked to 
resign my ward to one of the new comers, which I 
declined, believiag that I could do more good 
where I knew the wants of each man, and recog- 
nizing no superior to the will of Miss Dix, or the 
surgeon in charge. I was asked, as the condition 
of being allowed to remain, to submit my corres- 
pondence wdth the superintendent to the perusal 
of the new matron of the hospital. This I also 
declined, firmly, but respectfully. After a few 



116 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

little annoyances, such as complaints of the beds 
being filthy on Monday morning, after having 
been changed on Sunday, I received my expected 
relief papers, and was ordered to leave on the first 
boat proceeding to Washington. 

The evening brought the steamer, and the night 
was passed in making preparations for departure. 
I snatched a moment in which to bid "Good-by" 
to the boys, many — nay, nearly all, I never would 
greet again with my mortal vision. It seemed 
somewhat harder to go at this time, because a 
nephew had just arrived in Hammond General 
Hospital, detailed for duty, whom I had not seen 
for some time. I was not favored with so many 
kindred, that I could agree to the separation with 
indifference. 

Only a moment was allowed me — I could not 
crowd the weight of sadness in that space of time 
— and I left them sorrowfully. While packing 
my trunk I found some lemons, which I laid down 
softly by the face of a boy, whose arm had been 
amputated after the Fredericksburg battle. He 
was sleeping so sweetly, that I could not disturb 
his peaceful rest, and took my silent farewell 
while bending over the brave young sufferer's 
bed, with a prayer for his safe and speedy re- 
covery. 

Tears were in my own eyes, and answering 
tears in the eyes of some, not too strong to betray 
the feelings of the heart, when I left the scene of 
the winter's labors, and went sadly away. I 



UNFEIGNED SURPRISE. 117 

never met but two of the soldier boys from Point 
Loolvout after that brief farewell. 

Again I was upon the broad Potomac. The 
shores of the Point, which had seemed so lovely 
when autumn's verdure fringed them to the narrow 
margin of white sand, wore now lone and bare 
under the March sun. Mud — the delayer of 
armies — the enemy about our weary feet — lay 
deep before our late quarters. The early spring- 
time had sent its first signals, sounding from the 
adventurous throats on the edge of the pines, and 
I knew that green grass and dainty flowers would 
soon spring up, while we were far away, perhaps 
bending over t-ods, stained with the blood of those 
brave men, who were yet to yield up their lives, a 
sacrifice to the honor of their beloved country. 

Miss Dix received us in unfeigned surprise. 
Five of her nurses, who, only one week before, 
she had been assured by the surgeon in charge, 
were doing as well as could be wished, were sent 
without warning to her house. Closely question- 
ing us, she became convinced that our relief had 
only been accomplished to make way for others, 
and she proceeded to the Surgeon General with 
us, to inquire who had given Mrs. Gibbons au- 
thority to discharge her nurses. 

He said she had not received it from him ; and 
an officer was sent to ascertain what the charges 
were. He returned with the accusation of " ineffi- 
ciency." Most of us had served for months in the 
military hospitals, with the approval of the sur- 



118 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

geons in charge, and sustained by Miss Dix, whose 
supervision was anything but nominal over her 
nurses in regard to character and usefulness. 
However, the charge was so unsatisfactory, that 
the Surgeon General ordered three of us to be 
retained in the service, and I went to the Sanitary 
Home for a few days of rest, and to allow Miss 
Dix an opportunity to find a fitting vacancy for 
me. 

No battle since Fredericksburg had poured 
maimed and bleeding men into the hospitals. Old 
wounds were fast healing, and men were eager to 
leave the monotonous life which they led, to 
return to their regiments, ready for the renewal of 
the conflict in the spring. I enjoyed the rest at 
the luxurious Home, having something like the 
quiet of my old life, which had been so long 
broken, and filled with excitement. 

I had leisure to think over what had passed, 
and gather up new courage for the future. Under 
no consideration was I willing to weary of my 
work. So long as battles were fought, and the 
gory dead were hurled by the side of the quivering 
living, so long would be needed just such help as 
my hands could give, and I had no disposition to 
withhold it. 



LITTLE TO DO. 119 



CHAPTER IX. 

WOLF-STREET HOSPITAL — LITTLE TO DO — DOING LITTLE — 
CONFISCATED BUILDINGS — BEAUTIFUL SCENES — A FAULT- 
LESS EXTEIIIOR — INSIDE VIEWS — THE DOCTOR'S MESS — 
THE HALF-DONE ROAST — GROWING WEAK — TROUBLED 
DREAMS — GOVERNMENT RATIONS — " DON't YOU HEAR THE 

BELLS a' ringing " THE STEWARD'S SPY — VISITING FORT 

ELLSWORTH — THE PLUM PIE — DRIVING FROM THE SER- 
VICE — OCCASIONAL NURSES — MY WORK — THE DISPEN- 
SARY STEWARD THE HAUNTED CORNER A MURDERER. 

-To Wolf-street Hospital in Alexandria, I was 
at last assigned for duty. Mi«s Dix accompanied 
me thither with a Miss Millar, a New England 
woman, who had been sent to the Mansion House, 
which was also a hospital. 

Only one woman nurse beside myself, was on 
duty at Wolf-street Hospital. On inquiring what 
work was to be given to my hands to do, the sur- 
geon in charge remarked, that there was very 
little to do ; if I found little to do, do that — if I 
found less, to do that. Then we wandered aim- 
lessly about, forbidden to enter the wards ; the 
only employment presenting itself being the care 
of the linen with the ironing and mending — long 
and irksome tasks, which we felt were not the 
ones we had come out to perform. 



120 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

The buildings which were occupied for the use 
of the hospital, were confiscated dwellings, in 
which all the rich furniture and table service still 
remained. These were used by the surgeons and 
their wives, who were staying with them. Our 
room, with those occupied by the three hundred 
patients, had been divested of the belongings, and 
contained nothing but Government bedsteads, and 
Government stands. 

Beautiful grounds surrounded these houses, and 
I could not but think of those who had dwelt 
within their rooms, looking out upon the lovely 
villas and the frowning forts which guarded the 
city. I wondered if those wanderers from beauti- 
ful homes, with their hands raised against us, 
knew that sick and wounded enemies lay beneath 
their roofs. 

Arlington Heights lay in the distance, and the 
Blue Ridge leaned against the western sky in 
solenm grandeur. Gen. Lee's home was in full 
view. Forts Lyon and Ellsworth, with the black 
muzzles of their guns toward us, seemed constantly 
to threaten these peaceful homes, so recently the 
abode of peace and comfort. 

Though the exterior appeared faultless, I can- 
not, out of regard for truth, record as much for the 
interior. The surgeons messed together, and used 
the same room in which we took our meals. 
Therefore our meals had to be prepared first, to 
allow them ample time to grow hungry, and 
about as much time in which to appease their 



THE HALF-DONE ROAST. 121 

hunger. Our breiikfasts were usually made up of 
a distasteful hash, made of the bits of meat, bread, 
and potatoes which were left by the patients, and 
the slops of the mess table took the place of tea 
and coffee. 

The surgeons were supposed to furnish their 
own board, while our rations were supposed to be 
supplied by Government. Yet, by a strange ad- 
mixture of circumstances, it was hard to find out 
" what belonged to who, or who to which," and 
doubtless it was so when the bills came to be 
handed in for payment. 

One thin slice of bread was laid by our plates 
— we could get no more until another meal. A 
nice roast would be served for dinner, and, when 
twelve o'clock arrived, the beef would be cooked 
only sufficiently for the blood to ooze out under the 
knife. From this raw material, thin slices were 
shaved, which were placed upon our plates, to- 
gether with potatoes cooked in the patients' soup, 
another round of bread, and a draught of the 
filthy Potomac water. The roast went back into 
the oven, and, of course, was " delicious," when the 
surgeons' mess hour arrived. 

Sometimes, for a change, we had codfish boiled 
in clear water — hunger being the only sauce. 
For sapper we had another slice of baker's bread, 
some dried apples stewed, and a fresh supply of 
slops from the mess table, if there chanced to be 
any, and, if not, more water was added, till the 
cooks were able to turn out a cup full each from 



122 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

off the old grounds. Turning water through the 
spout of the tea or coffee pot, aided by a strong 
imagination, was sometimes regarded as having a 
fine effect. 

Twice a week, a piece of butter, a little larger 
than a small-sized nutmeg, graced each plate, and 
we were absolutely almost starved. Although in 
perfect health and strength when I went there, 
before I left I found it necessary to cling to the 
banisters to assist in ascending the stairs. As 
days went by I found myself growing weaker and 
weaker, with hunger gnawing at my vitals, and no 
opportunity to obtain food. 

If we went out into the city, a soldier was 
every moment at our heels, and no one was 
allowed, by purchasing an article of food, to cast 
an imputation upon the character of tlie hospital 
— which, from its beauty, and the desirableness of 
the buildings, had acquired the reputation of a 
" model hospital." If visitors questioned, and 
complaint was made, the culprit was punished 
with extra diet. This was done with three 
soldiers who were thrust into the attic where no 
man could stand upright, and there forced, under 
a guard, to eat each three full rations at a 
meal. 

During this time my dreams were troubled with 
visions of good things which seemed to pass in 
panoramic order over my sleeping hours — all dis- 
appearing with the light of the sun and leaving me 
hungry and wretched indeed. Our Government 




i<) illl DLKD IIOI ^L 




THE LITTLE KNOLI. 

AM.PHOTO-LITHO CO NXCOsborne's Pr«< 



THE steward's SPY. 123 

allowance was more than could possibly be eaten 
by a strong healthy man, and, when in a position 
to have it regularly served to us, the surplus 
material was turned over to the quartermaster to 
be sold, the proceeds creating a fund securing ex- 
tras for both soldiers and nurses. 

Sometimes a number of women were with us, 
on a visit to sick husbands, sons, and brothers, 
and with no means of subsistence. Such were fed 
from our full rations, and we had enough and to 
spare. 

The patience of some natures forbids long indul- 
gence in melancholy, whatever the outside pres- 
ure, and we sometimes felt so constituted that we 
could make merry in a dungeon, without the air 
or light of heaven. Therefore we at times forgot 
our sorrows, and beguiled the moments with 
cheerful conversations. The convalescents fre- 
quently called out in chorus at the ringing of the 
beU, 

*' O, don't you hear the bells a' ringing, 
Down to Uncle Sam's hotel," * 

when no prospect of a satisfying meal lay before 
them, thus throwing off, with careless show of 
merriment, the injurious effects of sadness and ill- 
treatment. 

The steward often stood in the pantry adjoin- 
ing the dining-room, to listen, and report in case 
we made complaint about our miserable food. 
Thus a course of espionage, unworthy of the dig- 



124 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

nitj of hospital officials, was kept up among us all, 
and the weapon of relief from duty kept con- 
stantly suspended over our heads. 

Taking a little stroll out into the country one 
day, in company with a woman attached feo the 
hospital, we came to Fort Ellsworth, and, as I 
desired to go within it, having no pass, I asked 
the lieutenant of the guard, if it would be possible 
for us to enter without. He scanned us closely, 
and when told to what hospital we belonged, 
although against orders, he admitted us, and we 
were taken to the several points of interest. 

On our return we called on an acquaintance of 
my companion's, and a plum pie was set before us. 
It was a tempting article of food at this time, and 
quickly disappeared before our voracious attacks. 
I have often thought of the satisfaction which I 
felt while furnishing the morsels rapidly to my 
palate, and the regret which filled my soul w^hen 
the last mouthful was taken up, and only the red 
stain of the fruit lay temptingly on the plate. 

Many surgeons, at this date of the war, were 
determined, by a systematic course of ill-treatment 
toward women nurses, to drive them from the 
service. To this class the surgeons in Wolf-street 
Hospital belonged, without any shadow of doubt. 

Ten women nurses were here relieved within a 
year, many of them recognized and efficient 
helpers of the Government, which provided that 
one-third of its hospital nurses should be women. 
To the class of occasional nurses, who, with tea- 



THE DISPENSARY STEWARD. 125 

spoon and tumbler of jelly, passed through the 
ward giving a taste indiscriminately to every pa- 
tient — the class who wrote long glowing letters of 
hospital life, and who never did a thing for the 
soldiers only what could be performed with gloves 
on jewelled hands — Wolf-street Hospital seemed 
an abode of plenty and comfort for all under its roof 

The glittering silver — the costly china — the 
easy chairs and mirrors, all giving evidence of 
care — the food which seemed all-sufficient, when 
seen in the raw material, inspired visitors with a 
great respect for the place, and few patients dared 
to brave the punishments sure to follow any decla- 
ration as to the insufficient, or ill-cooked food. 

We were not cowered from any fear of corporeal 
punishment being inflicted ; no thought of bearing 
a load of wood on our backs, and being marched 
around by a guard for hours, deterred us from 
speaking of the wrongs we endured ; but rather 
thoughts of usefulness cut off, of the disgrace of 
dismissal, of being shut out where our hands could 
not minister unto the brave wounded — those con- 
siderations argued against all complaints, and kept 
sentinel over our tongues to their every utter- 
ance. 

My work grew into a systematic round of 
tailoring — changing pockets, cutting down collars, 
and repairing coats and pants. One day the dis- 
pensary steward gave me a call, and requested me 
to mend a garment for him, which, in the debauch 
of the night previous, had been sadly rent. He 



126 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

sat down in the room, and said, after a few 
moments silence, " A man died in this room, in 
that very corner, 

" Well," I replied, " his ghost doesn't haunt me. 
I never injured him." 

" But I did," he continued, " I said if he didn't 
stop groaning so, I would strike him over the head 
with the broom stick, and I raised it over him, 
and he fell out of bed, and died in a little while." 

I could not repress a shudder as the coarse man 
laughed in seeming satisfaction over the exploit, 
and I glanced furtively toward the comer, in 
which I seemed to see the pale ghastly face of the 
murdered dead, with glassy eyes fixed on his 
cruel murderer. 

Was it true, that in the grossness of the soul in 
which this man was encased, no gleam of con- 
science could shed a ray ? no compunctions stab 
at his selfish joy? He was a senseless clod, 
steej)ed in dissipation — a wreck with battered 
spars, and rotting hull, drifting to a swift destruc- 
tion. 



STOCKADED. 127 



CHAPTER X. 

spring's return — STOCKADED — THE EXPLOSION AT THE 
FORT — LIGHTNING TRAINS — CHANCELLORVILLE — TIED 

FROM THE WORK — THE MARSHALL HOUSE THE YOUNG 

MARTYR THE WIFE OF JACKSON — THE SLAVE PEN — THE 

PRIZE BETWEEN THE COMBATANTS — DEGRADED TO THE 

DUST INJUSTICE MARKED MEN — THE STAMPEDE FROM 

THE RAILROAD RELIEVED — BEGGING TO STAY — TWICE 

TO WASHINGTON — THE ARISEN QUESTION — SUPREME BLESS- 
EDNESS — NOT READY FOR HOME FINDING A LODGING 

PLACE — DISTRIBUTING STORES — THE CAVALRY CAMP — 

THE WOUNDED MAN — NORTHWARD IN CLOSE PURSUIT 

THE BLUE AND THE GREY — THE AWFUL CARNAGE — SCENES 
OF AGONY — THE BARRED GATE — OPENED AT LAST — ON THE 
WAY — MEETING MISS DIX. _ 

The spring of 1863 dotted the roadsides with 
dainty flowers, studding the grass like myriads of 
stars, and seemingly unconscious that the dust, 
which blew over them from the neighboring high- 
ways, was thrown from the advance of armies, 
which were to contend to the death for mastery. 

In anticipation of a cavalry raid, the streets of 
Alexandria were stockaded — only at certain hours 
gates were opened, and carriages allowed to pass. 
Foot passengers clambered over the steps, and 
a feverish anxiety, by reason of our proximity to 
the rebels, kept us on the alert at all times. 



128 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

When the magazine at Fort Lyon was blown 
up, feeling the shock, and hearing the bursting of 
shells, the throbbing blood bounded through my 
veins, causing a fearful commotion about my heart, 
and I went speedily to the highest lookout in 
the house, with the certainty that the rebels had 
come. 

Visions of burning dwellings — of murdered 
women and children, of destruction and death — 
ran like lightning trains before my mind's eye, 
and when I learned the cause of the concussion, 
the terrible accident which had sent twenty-two 
men to their death without a moment's warning, 
and hurled as many more helplessly upon the 
sod, I could but feel a regret that tliey had not 
died while manfully resisting the foe— face for- 
ward. 

ChaTicellorville was fought. The dispirited 
troops had fallen back across the river, and our 
dead men filled bloody gaps in the long extended 
line of battle. I was ea2:er for somethins; to do — 
stitching aimlessly at tattered garments was not 
my work. The flush of indignation mantled my 
cheek, when I thought of the treatment to which 
loyal women had been subjected, when patriotic 
zeal had nerved them to leave home and its com- 
forts to endure privation, sickness, hunger, and 
fatigue — and, after all, they were held from the 
good which they were eager to do. 

When I could throw off these feelings, and get 
out into the free air, I found many places in 



THE WIFE OF JACKSON. 129 

Alexandria which interested me, because of the 
associatioTis connected with them. The Mar- 
shall House, within which Col. Ellsw^orth fell, one 
of the first to die for his country, I explored to 
the very loft, from which he was bearing the 
rebel flag, when the traitor's hand directed at him 
his death shot. I also stood on the landing, where 
the avenger smote the murderer, and memory bore 
me back to that May day, when the tidings of the 
death of the lamented young Colonel were borne 
through the whole land with electric speed, 
inciting others to catch up the fallen sword. 
It seems well, at times, to go back, even for 
a moment, in memory to the glorious acts of the 
brave men wdio gave their lives for the nation. 
It is our duty thus to honor them. History may 
write their names upon its pages — yet we, who 
are blessed through the sacrifice, should engrave 
their names upon the tables of our hearts, and be 
pleased to ponder upon their immortal deeds. 

My mind was carried back to the recorded inci- 
dents of his life, to the hours of his death, and 
through the journey, when they bore the martyr 
to his native State, and a nation mourned over the 
victim to a cold and brutal murder. 

The wife of Jackson returned to Alexandria, 
while I was there, soliciting alms, pleading the dis- 
tress of unprotected widowhood, charging the 
citizens with making her desolate and penniless. 
They made up a generous purse for her, which 
she carried back into rebeldom, with all the infor- 

9 



130 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

mation which she could gather relative to our 
forces, and the prevalent feeling in regard to the 
war. 

A slave pen still stood within the city's limits, 
with auction block standing about it, and high 
stone wall surrounding it on three sides, the other 
wall made up of an old building, in which the 
human "chattels" had been thrust, in dirt and 
darkness, to await their transfer to new masters. 

Blood spatters were on the wall of the house, 
and stained the auction blocks, suggesting horrible 
thoughts of lashings and agony, which were no 
sadder than the wrenching away of those dusky 
men and women from home, and children, and 
friends. 

What sighs had gone up from that dreadful 
square; what cries and groans had appealed to 
hearts grown callous in the traffic in blood ; what 
unspeakable wretchedness of mind had these crea- 
tures endured, with the lash, the knife, and the 
blood-hound frequently their only reward for a 
life of toil. 

The building was occupied by ragged contra- 
bands, huddled together in indolence, and filth, 
and poverty. They evinced a strange sense of 
freedom, and seemed perfectly secure while lines 
of men were marching in proud blue uniforms to 
drum-beat and bugle-call to guard them. They 
felt, where feeling was possible, where it had not 
been crushed out by life-long bondage, that they 
stood between the combatants, the prize for 



THE STAMPEDE. 131 

which they were contending. They had un- 
bounded faith in " Massa Lincoln's soldiers." 

This pen — degrading, disgraceful association — 
was used for the safe keeping of men who wore the 
blue uniform of Union soldiers, and who, for 
trilling offences, were put under guard in that 
loathsome pen, when the very dust was alive with 
vermin. 

One man from our hospital was thrust in, but 
released in a few days, literally covered with 
vermin, and burning with rage at this insult to 
his manhood. He ran away to his regiment, well 
knowing that he could not be taken for desertion, 
and defying the keepers who used their brief 
authority to heap insult on men immeasurably 
their superiors. 

When will the injustice of these things ever be 
wiped away ? Many of the very men who exer- 
cised such contemptible temper while in their offi- 
cial capacity, know that, even though peace has 
usurped the din of war, they are hardly safe so 
long as soldiers live, who, in putting off the uni- 
form of their country's military service, did not 
put off the embittered feelings which were engen- 
dered by their insolence. 

One amongst the little incidents which relieved 
the monotony of our life, was the rushing into 
town of the laborers who were repairing the War- 
renton Railroad. They came in the utmost confu- 
sion — tent-poles, frying-pans, coffee-pots, tent- 
cloths, horse equipments jumbled together — ^with 



132 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

terror-whitened faces, and beating hearts, as if 
they had heard the bugle-call of the enemy ring- 
ing out on the air. 

To the disappointment of many, it turned out 
only a scare, and they returned again to their 
work. 

But time was drawing me near to the close of 
my labors in Wolf Street. One morning I went 
to the kitchen to make the biscuits for breakfast, 
the cook, who was from near the city of Auburn, 
and therefore seemed near to me, having pro- 
mised me enough for my own meal in return. 
While waiting for them to bake. Dr. Stewart 
passed through, without saying a word. I was 
unconscious of committing any crime, and there- 
fore gave no heed to the incident. When my 
relief papers were handed to me, in the forenoon, I 
had not the slightest idea of the charges brought 
against me, and went to the surgeon's room to 
ascertain. 

I could get no satisfaction, only that there was 
no need of so many women in the hospital, but if 
Dr. Page was willing ImigJit stay. Thus begging 
like a street vagrant for the privilege of remain- 
ing in Government employ, T went to Dr. Page, 
and was told that the accusation was douljtless a 
flimsy one, and if Dr. Stewart would countermand 
the order, of course I could remain. To Dr. Stew- 
art again I hastened, smothering my pride, and 
choking down my rising indignation. I was told 
that I could consider the order countermanded, 



TWICE TO WASHINGTON. 133 

and could remain until after the anticipated battle, 
but I had better go and see Miss Dix first. 

So, taking the steamer, I journeyed to Washing- 
ton, to acquaint the superintendent of the state of 
affairs. She declared herself satisfied with the 
arrangement which had been made for the present, 
and returning to the hospital, my first greeting 
was in the shape of my second relief papers, order- 
ing me to report to Miss Dix without delay. The 
boats left for Washington every hour through the 
day, from seven in the morning to the same hour 
in the evening. 

Miss Dix was astounded, and met me with the 
query, " Miss Bucklin, what have you come for 
now ?" In all my distress of mind — the fear of 
disgrace, the shame of being sent home — I could 
not suppress a smile at the ridiculousness of my 
situation in twice appearing, the same day ; but as 
she listened to my detail of the circumstances, her 
surprise gave way to indignation at this treat- 
ment of her nurses. 

There was no vacant place for me, she said ; 
what should she do with me was the question of 
the hour. I was too young for field duty, and 
even if not, the battle was still delayed, and no 
more help was needed, for there were no freshly 
wounded soldiers. But I plead to remain — plead 
when boys in blue would have given half their 
life for the freedom of going, to escape the brutal 
tyranny of men whose insignia of office was the solo 
indication of superiority. 



134 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

And in this freedom lay the supreme blessed- 
ness of being a woman. No compulsion of serving 
under hard human task masters when weary, with 
hands tired of the service which they had been 
eager to render ; the enthusiasm and patriotic fire 
all turned, like the flibled apple, to ashes at the 
touch of real hospital life ; chilled, hungry, brow- 
beaten and driven out from hospital to hospital. 
Yet there is at times in the soul a feeling of love 
for one's bleeding country, and its suffering heroes, 
which makes it impossible to turn the eyes and 
feet homeward. 

Thus, in the lull which followed a first series 
of conflicts in May, 1863, we waited for the next 
terrible shock. Determined to brave everything 
in order to be at hand, when, from the struggle, 
men should lie helpless on the field of battle, I 
remained in Alexandria, finding board at the 
house of Mr. Nichols, chief of engineers, whose 
family had come on with a few efiects from Phila- 
delphia, to be near him, and give him the com- 
forts of a home. Here I sewed, and at times 
varied the employment by distributing Sanitary 
stores through some of the hospitals in Alexandria. 

Sometimes, accompanied by one of the daughters, 
I made short excursions into the open country. 
One day I set out in search of a hospital patient, 
who had broken through the hard restraint, and 
gone without equipments or horse to join his 
regiment. We had heard that he was lying low 
in camp, a short distance from the city. 



THE WOUNDED MAN. 135 

The camp presented a pretty picture, as the 
men gathered around the little circle of fires, over 
which the coffee was boiling, and by which, 
tethered to a stake, the faithful horse of each 
soldier waited for the breaking of the quiet. 
Steadily and persistently we made our way 
amongst the men •; knowing them to be usually 
respectful men, we had no fear of insult; and 
at last drew near the house and grounds of a 
rebel woman, guarded by soldiers in blue uni- 
forms. 

Our request to be allowed to wander through 
the garden and admire the flowers was ungra- 
ciously refused, and we walked on, still uninformed 
in our inquiries after the wounded cavalryman. 
We had been only a few moments at the house on 
our return, when in stalked the soldier for whom 
we had made useless search — no wounds upon his 
person, and returning strength in his frame. 

He gave us a little sketch of his adventures; 
told how, unmounted and unequipped, he had gone 
out in search of his regiment, and, soon after join- 
ing it, they had come in contact with rebel 
cavalry. During the fray, the horse of a rebel 
soldier, who had just follen from his saddle, shot 
dead, galloped up to his side with a friendly neigh, 
and he accepted the ownership as providential. 
He had just come in — had driven down a stake, 
thrown off his saddle, and laid the reins over it, 
previous to searching for old friends at the hospital. 
There, missing me, he had inquired his way to my 



136 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

temporary home. After a friendly cup of tea, he 
departed on his way, leaving me thankful that the 
rumor of his wounded condition was unfounded. 

The scorching sun appeared to catch ^vith burn- 
ing fingers upon the hills, and the languid leaves 
hung motionless in the hot air. Northward, the 
legions of rebellion were known to be sweeping, 
and somewhere — although our lips dared not utter 
our thoughts — we knew the Union army was in 
close pursuit. We knew, also, that this march 
could not be endured long without a conflict, and 
the breathless silence was ominous of the dread 
horror which would soon paralyze many a heart 
with wretched woe. 

At last, upon Pennsylvania's soil, the long lines 
of blue and grey grappled with each other in con- 
flict. Througli the streets, over lovely meadows, in 
tangled, rocky ravines, up wooded hill-slopes, along 
the edge of jagged rocks, and, alas ! even in that 
silent resting-place of the village dead, wh^re the 
inscriptions upon white tombstones told the names 
and virtues of those who had gone to heaven from 
the peaceful home, there they lay, as though an 
earthquake had upheaved them from thousands 
of graves. 

Rolling into trickling rivulets, and dyeing them 
blood-red, foes strangled and smothered each other, 
while those who fell backw^ard into the blood- 
dripping gorges died, howling curses up into the 
smoke-clouded air. Trees, broken and stripped of 
their foliage, were the only many silent witnesses 



OPENED AT LAST. 137 

to the death agony of men whom the deadly 
minnie sought out. Everywhere the grass had been 
moistened with blood, everywhere the grain had 
fallen under the trampling wheels of artillery, and 
everywhere startled horses were plunging in their 
harness. Everywhere the young orchards had 
given shelter to a contending soldiery, and over the 
tlireshold of every house wounded men had been 
borne, and pale-faced women had nerved them- 
selves up to look upon the great agony of death. 

In barns and under sheltering trees, where the 
shells and cannon balls and deadly bullets were 
at times flying, the surgeons plied their keen- 
edged saws, while tbe horrid rasps grated on ears, 
which would feim liave shut out the dread sounds. 
Men were shot dead as they crawled away to seek 
a shelter from the storm^ where they might die 
more peacefully from their fatal wounds. Hell 
seemed to have vomited up its legions, with its 
own lurid flames, and to have influenced many 
desperate souls to seek out their mangled victims. 
. Days passed, and we knew they needed help. 
We knew they needed more than could be 
gathered from the surrounding country, and we 
besought Miss Dix to allow us to go. I could 
make one, I thought, in the scores which were 
nedeed. 

But, " No, you are too young for field duty," 
was the constant reply, and T chafed under the 
command which I dared not openly disobey. At 
last the gate was opened for ine, and I passed 



138 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

through. Two weeks had gone by, and, one day, 
Mr. Knapp, of the Sanitary Commission, said to 
me, as I was tarrying in my restlessness at the 
Home, " Miss Bucklin, will you go to Gettysburg, 
and help distribute stores ?" 

I replied that I wished to go ; more than that, 
it was in my heart to hasten there, but I had 
been positively forbidden to go, by the w^oman 
whom I acknowledged as my director. 

" Go with Mrs. Caldwell," he said, " and I will 
stand between you and all blame." 

" I will go," I said, and twenty minutes re- 
mained in which to gather up a little bundle of 
clothes, and roll them in a newspaper, to eat my 
supper, and go on board the train. 

Friday afternoon we left Washington, and 
arrived at Baltimore in the evening, wiien the 
first person who met me in the hotel 4)arlor 
where I stopped was Miss Dix, on her return 
from Gettysburg. 

" Where are you going, child." she said, looking 
into my face with keen searching glances. 

" To Gettysburg, madam," I replied. 

" And did I not forbid you — why do you diso- 
bey my orders ?" *— 

Mrs. Caldwell related the persuasion which had 
been brought to bear upon me, and the kind 
superintendent, with no chiding, forgave me, 
and said, " Keport to the Seminary Hospital for 
duty." 



MAIMED MEN. 139 



CHAPTER XI. 

THE BATTLE TOWN — MAIMED MEN IN THEIR PRIDE — THE 

GLORIOUS SABBATH-*-THE TENTED FIELD — BEGINNING THE 

WORK SANITARY — GETTING IN ORDER — STRANGE PICNIC- 

ING — MY TENT — DRENCHED CLOTHING — AFTER ALL — THE 
WOMEN OF GETTYSBURG — REBEL WOUNDED — FATALITY 
AMONGST THEM — THE CONTRAST — PRISONERS OF WAR — 
THE SPIRIT OF THE SOUTH — DISCIPLINE — SEEDS SOWN — 
THE PLASH OF WATER. 

On Saturday we entered the battle town. 
Everywhere were evidences of mortal combat, 
everywhere womided men were lymg in the 
streets on heaps of blood-stained straw, every- 
where there was hurry and confusion, while 
soldiers were groaning and suffering. 

Stripped of cattle and sheep — stores and houses 
robbed, still the people of Gettysburg stood nobly 
bv their defenders. The women brousfht forth 
their contributions of bandages and lint, and 
poured out with unsparing hand their hidden deli- 
cacies, such as wines and jellies, like oil upon the 
sea of suffering humanity. 

It seemed impossible to tread the streets with- 
out walking over maimed men, who had fallen in 
the shock of that July's fire, in which the sun 
seemed almost intent upon vieing with cannon 



140 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

and rifle in destructive heat. They lay like trees 
uprooted by a tornado, with summer's leafy 
crown upon them. With manhood's strength, and 
youth's vigor, and comeliness, they lay on the 
bloody ground, sick with the pains of wounds, 
grim with the dust of long marches and the smoke 
and powder of battle, looking up with wild hag- 
gard faces imploringly for succor. 

In all their pride of health and usefulness — 
like the glossy leaved trees which sun, and rain, 
and air, and deep sucking roots had nourished — 
they were cut down, and lay upturned — their 
strength withering — their lives slowly ebbing 
away, the blood drops still oozing from deep 
wounds, their pulses intermitting, and their hearts 
fluttering in the spirit struggle. 

I felt as if I could not be too thankful that I 
had been sent to aid with my well-nerved strength 
in the terrible work before us. Soon, rain fell 
copiously, washing out with its softly penetrating 
fingers the gory stains from among the grain and 
grass. 

A carriage took us out from Gettysburg to the 
tent, which had partially been fitted up for Dr. 
Caldwell's wife,- but neither bed nor seat of any 
kind had been put in — jonly the rough-boarded 
floor lay under us, soaked through and through 
with the falling rain. 

It was impossible to remain there in comfort — 
we were weary with travel, and needed rest to 
recruit ourselves for labor, so back to the town we 



THE GLORIOUS SABBATH. 141 

were driven, where we found shelter in the house 
of a citizen, whose wife had been cooking for the 
Sanitary Commission. An elegant supper of 
chickens, biscuit, sauce, sweet-cake, and coffee 
made our appetites at peace with us under the 
roof, and our first night was passed within the 
little circle of a few miles, in which so many 
horrors had been lately enacted. 

I was told, when asking to be directed to the 
Seminary Hospital, that I was not needed there, 
but that urgent necessity for woman's work 
existed in the field, and I must consent to go 
there for duty. Also that the patients from the 
Seminary were soon to be brought to the field and 
that that hospital was to be broken up. So on 
the following morning — a lovely dawning of the 
Sabbath — ^we took our way up to the hospital 
ground, where five hundred tents had already 
been erected. 

It was the field on which the first guns were 
fired in that memorable battle. The sun shone 
brilliantly on the grass and leaves, wet with the 
rain of yesterday, and the round drops glittered 
like little stars wrought upon them by the swift 
embroidering fingers of the night. 

I shall never forget that morning or that scene. 
Painted in truthful and glowing colors it still 
hangs on memory's walls unfadingly, and I have 
only to turn to that July, of 1863, to behold it 
fresh in all its glorious beauty. 

The thousands of souls which had gone up from 



142 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

that grand circle of hills, within the waning and 
waxing of half a moon, the bloody dews which 
had dripped from the grass blades, and lowly 
flower leaves, and the too unmistakable agony of 
thousands of souls, had all made that spot a con- 
secrated place. 

I felt as though it were profane to speak with 
even assumed cheerfulness, while treading over it, 
although the long lines of white tents glimmering 
along the distant wood-side, spoke with a comfort- 
ing earnestness of the many whom shot, and shell, 
and cold steel had failed to destroy. 

A line of stretchers, a mile and a half in length, 
each bearing a hero, who had fought nigh to 
death, told us where lay our work, and we com- 
menced it at once. I washed agonized faces, 
combed out matted hair, bandaged slight wounds, 
and administered drinks of raspberry vinegar and 
lemon syrup, while Mrs. Caldwell wrote letters 
to those who were waiting in dread suspense for 
news of their soldier, little knowing that he lay 
stretched on a narrow bed, weak with loss of 
blood, longing for the presence of those who were 
glad to be near him with their loving attentions 
when lying sick beneath the lowly roof among his 
native hills. Nor did many of the suffering brave 
ones know how the river of death flowed riplessly 
only a stone's throw before them. 

The Sanitary Commission here did its work of 
mercy. Here it served its legitimate purpose with 
all the strength of its great humane heart. Without 



GETTING IN ORDER. 143 

its generous supplies, untold suffering would have 
visited us, for Government stores could not be 
obtained, and in view of the host of wounded the 
ordinary hospital supplies were as a drop of 
water in the depths of the cool, silent well. 

The hospital lay in the rear of a deep wood, in 
a large open field, a mile and a half from Gettys- 
burg, and overlooking it, the single line of rail 
which connected the battle town with the outer 
world sweeping it on one side, and winding through 
the woods. In this open field our supplies were 
landed from Washington. Whole car loads of 
bread were moulded through and through, while 
for a time we were sorely pinched for the necessa- 
ries of life. 

It needed only time to right this pressing want. 
We soon had a Government kitchen, a low diet, 
and an extra diet kitchen, with several large 
stoves, and large caldrons in which to make the 
soup which was always served for dinner. One set 
of men were detailed for soup-making, another for 
roasting beef, another for cooking vegetables, and 
when the great oven was prepared, the bread for 
the whole hospital was baked in its heated 
depths. 

We were the first women on the ground, but 
the number soon increased to forty, including 
seven Government nurses. One woman superin- 
tended the extra diet, having several under her 
charge to do the cooking. 

The hospital tents were set in rows — five hun- 



144 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

dred of them — seeming like great fluttering pairs 
of white wings, brooding peacefully over those 
wounded men, as though to shelter them from 
further evil. Walks were thrown up between 
these rows, in order that they might dry quickly 
after the summer rains. The ground, now sodded 
— soon to be hardened by many feet — -was the only 
floor in the wards or in our quarters. The latter, 
with those of the surgeons, were set at the edge of 
the woods, where the sunlight broke through the 
green leaves and down upon the brown inould 
grown rich with the decay of years. 

There was always a strange interest awakened in 
my mind by those grand old woods, wherein the 
screaches of shells had resounded, frightening the 
birds from their nest, and hurrying them away 
from the haunts of war and death. 

My tent contained an iron bedstead, on which 
for a while I slept with the bare slats beneath, 
and covered with sheets and blanket. I after- 
wards obtained a tick and pillow, from the Sani- 
tary Commission, and filled them with straw, 
sleeping in comparative comfort. I soon found, 
however, that the wounded needed these more 
than I, and back I went to the hard slats again, 
this time without the sheets, which were given for 
the purpose of changing a patient^s blood-saturated 
bed. 

As time passed, and the heavy rains fell, send- 
ing muddy rivulets through our tents, we were 
often obliged in the morning to use our parasol 



THE WOMEN OF GETTYSBURG. 145 

handles to fish up our shoes from the water before 
we could dress ourselves. A tent cloth was after- 
wards put down for a carpet, and a Sibbly stove 
set up to dry our clothing. These were ofttimes 
so damp, that it was barely possible to draw on 
the sleeves of our dresses. By and by I had the 
additional comfort of two splintr-bottomed rocking 
chairs, which were given me by convalescent pa- 
tients, who had brought them to the hospital for 
their own use, and on departing left them a legacy 
to me. With these a stand was added to my 
furniture. I here learned how few are nature's 
real wants. I learned how much, which at home 
we call necessary, can be lopped off, and we still 
be satisfied j how sleep can visit our eyelids, and 
cold be driven away with the fewest comforts 
around us. 

After all there seems to be a craving of the 
soul for unutterable joys, which keeps the restless 
body on its ceaseless round to find the means of 
gratification, in earthly surroundings ; and we, 
poor blind spirits, grope darkly on in our house of 
clay for what we cannot find, while the soul Avill 
not cease its yearnings. After life's journey, 
with its perishable concerns, is over we can only 
hope to be satisfied. 

Mrs. Caldwell and myself were soon only two 
amidst a throng of women eager to help in the 
good work. Women from Gettysburg, w^io were 
unnerved at the first sounds of advancing conflict, 
and whose houses had been rudely entered by 

10 



146 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

some villainous Texan desperadoes, came here to 
help bind up the wounds of their defenders, and 
administer comfort to those whose hands had been 
turned against themj for more than half of the 
wounded men in the hospital were rebel soldiers, 
grim, gaunt, ragged men — long-haired, hollow-eyed 
and sallow-cheeked. It was universally shown 
here, as elsewhere, that these bore their sufferings 
with far less fortitude than our brave soldiers who 
had been taught, in sober quiet homes in the 
North, that .while consciousness remained, their 
manliness should suppress every groan, and that 
tears were for women and babes. 

With the same care from attendants, and the 
same surgical skill, many more of the rebels died 
than of our own men — whether from the nature 
of their wounds, which seemed generally more 
frightful, or because they lacked courage to bear 
up under them, or whether the wild irregular lives 
which they had been leading had rendered the 
system less able to resist pain, will always remain 
a mystery with me. The truth of the assertion 
however is corroborated by army nurses all over 
the land. 

Of twenty-two rebels who were brought into 
my ward at one time, thirteen died, after receiving 
the same care that was given to our men. Their 
wounds were severe, and their courage unequal to 
the despair which preyed upon them. 

It was quite a study to see and ponder upon the 
contrast between the men of the two sections. 



DISCIPLINE. 147 

Those who were reared among the rugged hills, 
where they tilled the ground, and ate their bread 
by the sweat of their brows, were independent, 
self-confident, intelligent, and possessed of a quiet 
courage which could only succumb to the immedi- 
ate presence of death. Those who were brought 
up in luxury and idleness were sullen and 
desponding, and groaned with pain. When con- 
valescent the rebels were even too indolent to pluck 
from their garments the vermin that seemed to be 
swarming in every seam, while this employment 
formed the daily and apparently exciting pas- 
time of our brave men, as soon as able to move 
about. 

The rebels, who were prisoners of war, as yet 
had no reason to sink under the generous fare and 
kindly nursing they received; and the bare fact of 
capture could hardly have wrought any disadvan- 
tasre in their condition. 

o 

Soldiers in blue, who ^had been in Southern 
prisons, told of the perfect discipline of the Con- 
federate troops — how completely the leaders held 
in control the men who acknowledged the 
supremacy of wealth and culture long before the 
tide of war swept over the land. They endured 
hard fare without a murmur, and toilsome marches 
through midnights, when the steady tramp of the 
brigades roused the Union prisoners who were 
huddled together in the open air to sleep, and 
almost awed them into silent respect for the rag- 
ged soldiers of the rebellion. 



148 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

The spirit which held them through all the 
long years of deadly peril seemed as enthusiastic 
as the spirit which fired a few of our troops, who 
in the first flush of enthusiasm went down to 
" whip them out in three months at most." Bit- 
ter complaints against Government, when Govern- 
ment was not responsible for their hardships; loud 
murmurs against long marches and stinted rations 
were seldom heard from the grey-clad soldiers, 
who silently endured on and almost depended upon 
their leaders for their thoughts. 

Had the Confederate troops possessed the same 
spirit as our own, the rebellion would never have 
outlived its infancy. But instead, all through the 
South the full tide of patriotism swelled high, and 
women gave all they had to the cause, and made 
every sacrifice with heroic fortitude. When 
prisoners returned to us it was with a duller con- 
fidence in the ultimate success of our arms, in 
view of this seeming united state of the South. 
They were not sharp- visioned enough to pierce 
the rind of the fair hanging fruit, and knew not 
that within it was filled with the ashes of error, 
because God and liberty had withheld their ripen- 
ing agencies from it. 

The strictest military rule could not utterly 
drive demoralization from our ranks. There was 
no complaint of this among the Southern leaders, 
and no signs of its working amongst those whom 
we held as prisoners of war. 

A commendable spirit of devotion, generally 



SEEDS SOWN. 149 

unknown amongst our soldiers, pervaded the rebels, 
and while our men were singing and joking, 
morning and evening prayers were being said, 
and Old Hundred chanted by their lips. 

Notwithstanding their hostility to us North- 
erners, I had much respect for them, and felt, 
when I watched their intense sufferings, that only 
an honest feeling could have driven them into 
such a conflict. 

Perhaps some of these men died repentant, com- 
ing back in spirit to their allegiance to the old flag, 
and learning that Northern men and women, after 
all, were human creatures, capable of gener- 
ously dealing with even a prostrate foe. That 
some appreciated the kindness done them I know, 
for I often received looks of thanks, and words of 
sincere gratitude. 

They learned lessons in this close contact with 
the Northern element, which no doubt came to 
them as scattered seeds and have disseminated a 
clearer idea of our character amongst those to 
whom a portion of them returned. I knew that 
no estimate could be formed of the intelligence of 
the people of the South from the majority of their 
soldiers, in dirty, ragged grey — amongst whom a 
hydrophobic fear of water seemed to prevail. 

I listened in considerable amusement to the 
questioning of one, who was interrogating a male 
nurse in long drawn accents of indolent helpless- 
ness, as he lay wrapped over with bandages : 

'' Am — I — so — very — black — nurse ?" 



150 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

"No, you aint so very black, nor you aint 
very d d white," was the unsoftened reply. 

" Then — wh at — do — you — wash — my — face 
— for — every — day ?" he inquired. 

And herein lay a wide contrast between those 
so fearful of soap and water, and our men so eager 
to feel the plash of cool drops upon fever-heated 
face and burning brow. Habit may settle this 
feeling to some extent, but a naturally delicate 
sense shrinks from personal uncleanliness as from 
a fearful sin. A pure man will seek to be pure in 
body, and will be when not absolutely deprived 
of facilities for cleanliness. 

Many of them died in prison pens, shut out 
from access to water, when, with its strengthening 
influence diffused through their starving bodies, 
they might have kept life and hope within them 
till the day of deliverance came. 

And soldiers have told me how the simple 
process of bathing, after a long and weary march, 
renovated their frames, while others, who had 
neglected it, arose stiffened and wearied in the 
morning, their natural vigor seemingly impaired. 



ASSIGNED TO DUTY. 151 



CHAPTER XIL 

ORGANIZING THE HOSPITAL — ASSIGNED TO DUTY — HUNGRY 

AND WEARY REMEMBERED — THE CHRISTIAN COMMISSION 

— AMONGST THE GREYS THE SICK VOLUNTEER NURSE 

HEATING WATER — WIVES AND MOTHERS THE YOUNG HERO 

THE PENNSYLVANIA MOTHER THE BRAVE WIFE — IN 

THE AGONY OF SUFFERING — RELEASED IN MERCY — NO 
HELP FOR THE REBELS — THE HEROIC MOTHER — ELEVEN 
WOUNDS — " MORE ! MORE !" — THE STEAMING POT-PIE. 

Swift organization characterized the movements 
of Dr. Goodman, the chief of liospitals, who 
marked out the plan under which ours should 
work. It was placed in charge of Dr. Chamber- 
lain. The original five hundred tents, spread 
in rear of the old woods, soon increased to many 
more ; and each nurse was assigned her position, 
and work went forward with a will. 

For several days our duties had been general. 
I did whatever my hands found to do, drawing 
stores in food, bandages, and cooling drinks from 
the Sanitary Commission — administered alike to 
friend and foe — inditing letters to rebel mothers 
and union wives ; finding my heart and soul 
engaged in the cause of bleeding humanity to an 
extent which banished personal discomfort from 
my mind, for the time, altogether. 



152 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

Hunger gnawed at my vitals; swollen feet 
almost refused to support me ; wearied limbs 
found but little rest upon the bare slats of my bed- 
stead through the short summer nights. While 
the delirium of pain drove others from their beds, 
bewildered with phrenzy, with sleep banished 
from the hot eyelids, there was little opportunity 
for care of self. In one case, a man ran up and 
down the ward, with cries and groans, while we 
could but hear and sympathize — our thoughts 
asking us, why should we complain of hard beds 
and aching feet ? 

Hunger only made eatable the wretched food 
which, was spoiled in its long heated journey over 
the dusty road from Washington. It was with 
much interest that we watched the progress of the 
new kitchen, the advent of the monster stoves, the 
filling of the huge caldrons, which set under the 
full glare of the sun — for out of their depths were 
to issue comforts for the many maimed heroes, 
and strength be given to others to do their duty 
by them. 

The cook detailed for the nurses learned to 
forage with remarkable success, and we were soon 
well supplied with food, although the rations 
issued to seven Government nurses would have 
proved a scanty supply doled out to forty grown 
women — none other than Government nurses 
being entitled to rations in the hospital. 

Citzens remembered us in the way of brimming 
pails of milk, of rolls of golden-hued butter, of lus- 



THE SICK NURSE. • 153 

cious fruit, which had ripened since dead men lay 
under the shadows of the green orchard boughs in 
those July days. Chickens, which had escaped 
the hands of the many hungry ones, were poured 
into the hospital, and disappeared rapidly before 
the sharpened appetites of four thousand men. 

The Christian Commission established itself on 
the ground, and did its work nobly. Both Sani- 
tary and Christian Commission tents were located 
on the edge of the woods, in convenient proximity 
to our quarters. One woman, employed by the 
Christian Commission, daily took a team and 
scoured the country round for the solid things 
which only farmers usually possess in plenty. 
From her we obtained generous gifts of fowls^^ 
eggs, milk and butter. 

One woman, whose house I afterwards visited — 
who, while on her way to Gettysburg to alarm the 
citizens on the last day of June, was caught in the 
grey lines of the marauders, and who, with great 
difficulty, escaped, and returned homeward — came 
to us, and pitched her tent with the nurses — and 
for four months worked for the wounded soldiers 
of her country. Many a pail of butter, and rich 
jug of milk she brought back from her home, after 
brief visits, and they were dispensed with a wil- 
ling hand. 

For two weeks, at the last, she lay a prisoner in 
the cloth-house, unable to return to her family, or 
to attend to her duties in the ward. I was awak- 
ened by her groans one night, and, getting up. 



154 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

went to her tent, which adjoined my own, and 
found her in great distress. A fire seemed to be 
needed, whereupon I spHt up a handful of wood, 
and started it into a blaze in my little Sibbly 
stove. I then went out into the darkness to — 
they were a great terror — the uncovered wells, 
which had been dug on the verge of the timber to 
supply the hospital with water. I drew a supply, 
and hastened back, heating it in a quart cup by 
holding it inside the door of my stove. 

For the information of those who may not 
know, I will state that the shape of a Sibbly stove 
is that of an inverted funnel — the wide end being 
set over the fire, which is built on the ground, and 
the smaller end emitting the smoke. It is not 
a very convenient contrivance for heating water, 
especially when any one is in a critical condition, 
and requires prompt assistance. 

I brought the doctor from his quarters, hastened 
to my ward for the camphor bottle, rousing many 
sleepers to wonder what the nurse wanted at that 
late hour, and did all in my power to relieve her. 
But, by the positive command of the surgeon, I 
was forbidden to attend to her after that night, as 
she had a family, on whom her claims were im- 
perative. Her husband and daughter soon arrived, 
and ministered to her wants until she was able to 
be moved to her own home. 

In the ward assigned me, after the first days of 
disjointed effort were over, there were three wives 
and two mothers, who had been prompted, by the 



THE BRAVE WIFE. 155 

solicitude in their hearts, to visit dear ones who 
lay helpless on hospital beds. One was the 
mother of a young hero — a volunteer from the city 
of Utica, whO; in full possession of his senses, sat 
without a moan, while the surgeon took twenty- 
six pieces of shattered bone from his wounded 
shoulder. But his face was bloodless as that of a 
corpse, and cold sweat-drops stood on his brow, in 
evidence of the terrible agony which he endured. 

Another Pennsylvania mother, whose son had 
stood under the iron hail, and bore, in his quiver- 
ing body, wounds from five minnie balls, was busy 
in the ward caring for his comfort. In cases of 
this kind, many eyes were attracted to the boy 
thus fortunate in having a mother's care, and 
many hearts longed to be where a fond mother's 
thoughts and prayers went up constantly for them. 

We witnessed a happy meeting one day, when a 
father, who was also a soldier, came into the 
ward, and met his wife sitting at the bedside of 
their son. Many tears were shed around them, 
which they knew not of, nor could have regarded 
in the full thankfulness of their hearts that the life 
of the dear boy had been spared to them. This 
mother left us, and took her son with her, he 
being able to endure the fatigue of travel. 

One soldier, in the presence of his wife, was 
striving to endure with calmness the pain of 
a fractured thigh and an amputated arm. No 
hand but hers could smooth his pillow, no other 
give him the nourishment to support life ; no 



156 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

fingers were as tender as hers over the throbbing 
wounds, where worms were feeding upon the 
living, human flesh. But his life was spared, 
and the brave and anxious wife cared little for 
hardships, so long as his life could be saved to 
her, and she could look into his eyes, and know 
that she was a comfort to him in this victorious 
conflict with death. 

As soon as he was able to be moved, he was 
transported to Baltimore, where she obtained a 
furlough for him, and carried him triumphantly to 
their New Hampshire home. 

Another wife, clasping to her bosom a little 
child of eighteen months, sat for hours with 
bowed head, leaning over the prostrate form of 
her husband, whose frightful wound made it 
necessary to keep him stupified with morphine, 
so that his unearthly groans should not keep the 
whole tent in undue excitement. 

A horrid fissure, through which a man's head 
might pass, had been made by a shot tearing 
through his bowels, and rendering it impossible 
to do anything to relieve him. He lay in this 
unconscious stupor, and the stricken wife waited 
in vain for some signs of recognition. A humane 
heart lay in the bosom of our surgeon, and he 
allowed the drug to exhaust itself, and conscious- 
ness to return, that he might recognize his wife 
and child before he died. 

Slowly it passed away, and his mangled body 
was racked with intensest suffering. He lay on 



RELEASED IN MERCY. 157 

his face, with his eyes turned toward her, that, 
when his senses revived, she might be the first to 
meet his gaze. After a while he looked up — the 
wild glare of pain in his eyes — and said, as he 
saw whose face bent over him, 

" Oh ! Mary, are you here ?" His groans were 
terrible to hear, and in mercy he was again given 
the opiate, and slept his life out in the deep 
breathing of unconsciousness. 

How our hearts were pained for that wife, sit- 
ting motionless beside the body, holding in her 
lap the little boy who was so soon to be fatherless, 
tearless in her great agony, stricken as by the 
withering stroke of palsy — yet breathing and liv- 
ing. I brought her plates full of food from the 
Christian Commission, which never withheld its 
hand when sorrow like this was made known to 
them. Broken-hearted she returned to the desolate 
home which should never know the sunlight of 
pleasure again, while her soldier's body rested 
under the distant sod on which was spilt an ocean 
of heroic blood. 

Another wife, with only the devotion which 
true affection inspires, watched her husband 
through long days of pain, till danger was past, 
and had the satisfaction of knowing that re 
covery was rapidly progressing. 

A widow, whose husband lay somewhere in his 
gory shroud of blue under the battle clods, tried to 
administer to the wants of th'e patients in the hos- 
pital, but the sense of bereavement, and the shock 



158 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

it bore her heart, so wrought upon her that her 
heart was steeled against those who lay prostrate 
in grey uniforms, and she refused to give food or 
drink or aid of any kind to them. She persisted 
in regarding them as the wanton murderers of her 
beloved husband. 

That instinct, which in the highest brute crea- 
tion resents an injury to itself or its loved, was 
blindly rampant in her chilled heart. She had 
not yet learned that her noblest revenge was to do 
good to those very men ; to bind up their wounds, 
and send them home to their wives that they 
might be spared a like desolation of heart. 

She was necessarily discharged. Although 
good and faithful amongst our own men, the rules 
of the hospital rendered it necessary to treat rebel 
and union soldiers alike, in all things pertaining 
to care and comfort. 

One woman worked with us through the whole 
period of four months, after she had taken the 
body of her soldier son from the trench in which 
it was buried, and carried it home to sleep with 
kindred dust. She had sought him out from the 
dreadful pit, and lifted him up with her own 
hands, her motherly heart yearning over the 
dead boy with unutterable anguish, nerving her to 
endure the horrible contact with the putrid 
corpses of the slain. Now, other mother's sons 
were stricken down, who with care might be re- 
stored to those who loved them, and her brave un- 
selfish heart could work for that end. 



"more! more!" 159 

Others would have perhaps talven the clay to 
its first resting-place, and sat down quietly to 
mourn over the desolation which death had 
wrought, but this heroic mother, with an unselfish- 
ness most commendable, sought to save sons to 
other loving mothers — a work which should make 
her name blessed forever. 

Daily the sympathizing heart could here go out 
in deepest compassion to the many wretched suf- 
ferers who lay under our white hospital tents. 
One little fellow named Galagher, who in his bed 
looked like a boy of ten years, bore manfully 
eleven painful wounds in his slender body. 
Soon, however, he grew dull and desponding, and 
having lost his appetite, seemed rapidly going 
down to the grave. Such cases, where neither 
medicine nor food seemed to reach them, interested 
me deeply, and I studied over every available 
article of luxury which might be procured to 
stimulate the appetite, and induce the return of 
strength. I tried oyster soup at last, obtaining 
the material of the sutler, and "more! more!" 
was the feeble cry of returning life, till he began 
to rally from his despondency. 

When it came his turn to be sent from the hos- 
pital, as all were, as rapidly as pronounced able, 
he could consume his rations with the strongest of 
them. A pot-pie was in the caldron, nearly 
ready for their hungry mouths, when the order 
came for them to go on board the cars and begin 
their tedious journey. How could they go with 



160 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

out a taste of the nearly cooked dinner ? I was 
determined they should not, and away I ran to the 
dish-house — the mud flying from my hurrying feet 
and my dress several inches deep with the clayey 
mass. Nothing could retard me, and going in, I 
grasped a pile of dishes, and started on my re- 
turn, unheeding the hue and cry which was raised 
after me. 

As I entered the ward, the pot-pie came in 
steaming hot, and was ladled out into dishes of 
every shape, and swallowed almost boiling with 
heat. My little fellow said, "Oh, Miss Bucklin, 
let me have some to take with me," and I 
gave him a cup full, which he took into the cars, 
and no doubt relished considerably while on his 
journey. 



EEBEL WARDS. 161 



CHAPTER XIIL 

BEBEL WARDS — NEW KECRUITS — FILLING THE BEDS — 
FRACTURED THIGHS — WELCOME INSTANT DEATH — THE 
AWFUL END — ROTTED AWAY — THE LITTLE ORDERLY — ■ 
PORT AT LAST — THE CONVENIENT SEASON — SUDDEN DEATH 

— THE GREYBACKS — THE DYING CHRISTIAN A BRIGHT 

DEATH-BED — TOO LATE — SORRY COMFORT — AN INTEREST- 
ING GROUP — THE BLOODY PILLOW. 

Whole wards were filled with rebels, who were 
attended by rebel nurses — one of officers only. A 
sharp contest often arose when the attendants met 
at the cook-house to draw food for their respective 
patients. Our men were often knocked down in 
the struggle, and the triumphant rebels appropri- 
ated all and everything upon which they could 
lay their hands. 

According to their own version of affairs, it was 
not until they were sent to Baltimore, and con- 
fined in the "West Buildings, that they began to 
realize themselves as prisoners of war. Thiey had 
become sleek and fat, and the change from plenty 
to scarcity was a blow at their ravenous stomachs 
which they felt keenly. 

Some of them were also scattered promiscuously 

through the other wards of the hospital. After a 

short time constant changes were being made, and 
11 



1G2 IN HOSPITAL AND CAIUP. 

rebel and union were put side by side. As fast as 
one bed was vacated, another wounded man seemed 
to spring up in the place, and we were always full 
to our utmost capacity. 

Whence they came we could not tell; but. 
doubtless, from the farm houses and the town, 
where they had been taken direct from the 
bloody field. They only seemed to be sent here 
as those who had cared for them thought the hos- 
pital a better place. Amongst others, who had 
been gathered into the rebel army, we found loyal 
men, who were only too glad to fall wounded 
prisoners of war into our hands. They presented 
quite a contrast to those who were bitter with 
hatred towards the North, and whose every breath 
was a curse on " Lincoln's invaders." 

Three men with fractured thighs were brought 
in one day, and bound up with heavy bandages, 
in frames arranged for the purpose. For days 
they groaned in agony — the flesh decaying from 
their bones, and the putrid scent poisoning the 
very air they breathed. Two of them were taken 
out in a dying condition, and laid under a canvas, 
for their presence was unbearable to the other in- 
mates of the tent. One lived only about an hour, 
while the other lingered till after nightfall before 
his spirit left its earthly tenement. I shudder, 
even now, as I think of the awful deaths, and 
realize that, somewTiere, some poor souls mourn for 
them as dead — ^yet in blissful ignorance of the 
terrible manner of their death. 



THE LITTLE ORDERLY. 163 

Oh ! more welcome instant death on the field of 
battle — with face to the furious foe — than this 
long lingering, which saps the fountain of life, 
while the blood courses heavily through the blue 
veins, while corruption riots on the flesh, and the 
grave refuses to receive them until the breath of 
life is gone. 

The third one of these awful sufferers died, also, 
in a few days — mercifully released from his pain. 

A rebel, with a wounded knee, was brought in 
suffering acutely, and, the wound opening, a com- 
press was put on, which, in a short time, cut 
through the dead flesh to the bare bone, when 
death gave him a welcome release. 

Another little fellow, an orderly sergeant, only 
sixteen years of age, had a fractured thigh, the 
bone of which protruded some inches. It was cut 
off twice — the first time three days previous to 
his transfer to Little York Hospital, when three 
inches were sawed away, and, the day before leav- 
ing, four inches more. 

He was worn to a skeleton — his thin hands 
seemed like the talons of a bird, and his sunken 
eyes looked with a strange lustre upon me, as I 
arranged the pads and pillows around him in the 
car, and saw his leg packed in the box, which the 
surgeon had ordered made for it. Again and 
again he thanked me for my kindness to him ; and 
then said, " I will try to write to you when I get 
there." The next news I received of him was 
from the hands of a soldier, wdio went away at 



164 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

the same time — and the little Ship had made port 
at last. His name was Ship. He died in three or 
four days after reaching the hospital, and when I 
remembered how helpless he would always be, 
and what a stormy ocean life was, I could but re- 
joice that he had anchored in the haven of rest in 
his youthfulness. 

One of my number had a leg amputated very 
close to his body, and, suffering intense pain, 
steadily refusing to take the beef tea or stimulants, 
he rapidly wasted away to a skeleton. I tried to 
rouse him to realize his condition, and to converse 
with him about the future. He only said, in a 
short manner, " I will talk about that at a more 
convenient season." 

A few nights later his stump bled, and reduced 
him to the very verge of the grave. One morning 
I asked him if he would like any letters written, 
for he was very weak, and life might not last long 
with him. After pondering a little while, he re- 
plied in the affirmative, and iii feeble tones dic- 
tated an account of his wound, and of his general 
health — then paused abruptly. " And what shall 
I say of your prospects in the future, should you 
not recover," I asked. " Say nothing about it," 
he added, gloomily ; and so the last message went 
to tell the waiting ones that the sacrifice was 
finished, for he died that night, and I never saw 
his face again. 

Another man, wounded in the elbow, lay for 
several weeks with his arm in one position, grow- 



THE GRATBACKS. 165 

ing fleshy in the indulgence of a strong appetite, 
and when able to walk about, did so around the 
ward, remarking that he felt so much better, he 
believed he would often avail himself of the privi- 
lege. The same day he took another walk, and 
the weather being cold, raw and damp, he came 
in, had a chill, and the next day was dead. 

He was intensely frightened, and gave himself 
up to die at the first symptom of the attack, and 
although many remedies were applied, all were in 
vain. 

On one side of him, lay two Northern men, one 
wounded like himself in the elbow, the other with 
a fractured thigh, both had chills at the same 
time, in the same way, and recovered under the 
same treatment. 

A great gaunt rebel was brought in ill with the 
typhoid fever; his mind was slightly shattered 
and we dared not cross him much, for he was a 
maniac in his passion. Soon, however, he gave 
signs of other affliction, and growing weaker and 
weaker every day, we finally determined to rid 
him of the pest. 

He had not been able to endure the thorough 
cleansing, which it was the rule to give each 
patient on admittance to the hospital, and he was 
literally alive with the crawling vermin, which 
you could see working in his mustache and 
beard. 

Determined to save him if possible, on the 
refusal of the men to cut his hair, or shave his 



166 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

face, which had not known a razor for three years, 
I took the revolting task upon myself. At arm's 
length, with sleeves pinned up, I severed his long 
hair, which bristled in unkempt disorder, and ap- 
plied the lather and razor to his sharp sallow face, 
then saturated his head and beard with alcohol, 
to do its work at destruction. 

The men nurses then took him, washed his 
body, changed his clothes, and laid him in a clean 
bed, so weak that he could scarcely lift his hands 
for days. But the cure was effectual, the blotches 
of raw eaten flesh healed up, and he recovered, 
being troubled no more from vermin than other 
p{itients were. It may seem strange to cleanly 
people, but it was impossible for soldiers entirely 
to avoid being troubled in this way. I have felt 
at times the discomfort myself — the keen hurt of 
pride, and the mortification — but by constant care 
and watchfulness have kept the number so few, as 
to give me only a temporary annoyance. 

Many scenes transpired which drew tears from 
our eyes and filled our souls with pity for those 
who were still to live on after those they loved 
had gone. Death took the widow's son, and the 
aged father's staff. The remorseless bullets seemed 
vulture beaked, and tore alike into hearts throb- 
bing with high hope, for whom earnest prayers 
were going up, and pierced as readily the vitals of 
those who knew neither kindred nor friends. 

We were all much affected by the death of a 
young Michigan soldier, whose wound was in the 



THE DYING CHRISTIAN. 167 

back, and which discharged so fearfully that it was 
necessary to change both bedding and clothing 
twice a day, until, at last, the hope of recovery died 
out in his sick heart. Then the new life began to 
dawn upon his clouded sight. I entered the ward 
one morning, and found the men listening to the 
exhortations of the young Christian — many of 
them in tears. He said, " Come here, Miss Buck- 
lin," and, as I approached his bedside, he asked, 
'' Do you think I can live till my father can get 
here ?" As he had been failing rapidly through 
the night, I thought it my duty to tell him the 
truth, and I said, " I fear you cannot?" 

" If I take stimulants and beef tea in plenty, 
don't you think I may ?" he questioned eagerly. 

" We will do what we can," I answered, " I will 
telegraph for your father, and try the best to keep 
you up to meet him." 

After a pause, he said, " I am not afraid to die. 
I have a bright hope that I shall soon meet my 
Saviour, where suffering is unknown, and where I 
shall be forever blessed. I thank you, and all of 
them for your long continued kindness to me, and 
I want to meet you in heaven — will you try to 
meet me there ?" 

I could only say, "I will — God being my 
helper." All day I gave him beef tea and stimu- 
lants freely, and left an abundant supply for the 
night. 

Two days later his father came, meeting 
his son only to stand at his bedside in the night, 



168 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

and witness the flight of the triumphant spirit. 
The father said to me, " It was the brightest death- 
bed scene that I ever witnessed — and it was the 
happiest moment of my life, when I saw my boy 
pass so sweetly away from suffering into the arms 
of his Redeemer. It is all one can desire in this 
world." 

And I could not restrain the words of gladness 
that fell from my lips, that the poor agonized soul 
had finished the sacrifice with such exceeding joy. 
As it was the duty of the women nurses to leave 
the ward at half-past eight o'clock, I was not 
beside him when death opened the gates of glory 
for his spirit to enter through. 

For fifteen days, administering stimulants every 
few moments, I sat by the bedside of one of Penn- 
sylvania's noble soldiers, named McMicken, who 
had lost his leg, and was prostrated nigh to the 
grave. The surgeon said to him often, " Mc. you 
wouldn't be here, if it wasn't for your nurse." 
But we could not save him. He died peacefully 
one night — ^receiving his summons, and going out 
silently to the land whence no traveller returns, 
and whither he goes burdened with no earth ills, 
to cloud the new life under heavenly skies. 

His poor old father came to see him, but it was 
too late. We had seen him laid under the sod, 
and the withered fingers of autumn had strewn over 
his grave heaps of colored leaves, like a rude gar- 
land woven for the brave. He was the staff on 
which the old man had hoped to lean, when life's 



AN INTERESTING GROUP. 169 

journey with him would near its close, and he 
wept tears which we could do nothing to check, 
and which, under the circumstances, we did not 
wish to check. 

I collected together the few articles belonging to 
him, consisting of a comb and brush, a razor and 
strap, a looking-glass, a cigar, and a roll of bandages 
with which his limb had been dressed, and as he 
took them, he said, tremulously, " Oh ! how much 
his poor mother will think of these things!" 
Surely, I thought, they will be a sorry comfort to 
the heart aching for the darling boy, who would 
never sit by their hearth again. 

An interesting group, in one section of the ward, 
"was composed of five young men, who had each 
lost a leg in the battle. One was from Michigan, 
two from Massachusetts, and two from Pennsyl- 
vania. All of them recovered, and I often have 
the satisfaction of hearing from one and another 
of them. 

A brother of Frank "Ward, one of the five, 
came to Camp Letterman to take him to another 
hospital, hoping there to get a furlough — as none 
were given at Gettysburg, all being compelled to 
move before receiving them. We knew he could 
not be moved without a bed, and they could not 
obtain one, so I set myself about the task with 
the intention of succeeding. As we could not take 
a Government bedstead away from the hospital 
grounds, I changed mine with the Sanitary Com- 
mission. Thus I obtained a cot, with a spring 



170 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

head piece, on which we could spread blankets, 
sheets, and pillows, making it quite comfortable. 

I received, on application, from the woman 
superintending the linen room, a Government 
pillow, having the appearance of having been 
used in a case of amputation. T threw it out of 
the door before her face, as an insult to the 
brave boy who had given so much to his country, 
and took a new hair pillow, regardless of the 
consequences, and made up the bed decently and 
in order. 

He started on his journey in comparative com- 
fort, and I learned afterward, therein feeling 
amply repaid for my trouble, that he arrived in 
Philadelphia, no more fatigued after his ride 
than would have been natural under the circum- 
stances. 



HURRYING TO AND FRO. 171 



CHAPTER XrV. 

FLEETING SUMMER — HUREYING TO AND FRO — THE ROUND 
OF DUTY — SCRAPS — THE HARD REFUSAL — WITH FIXED 
BAYONETS — THE HUMANE SURGEON — WHISKY BARREL — 
PETER BROCK^-" I SHALL BE PROUD IF YOU RAISE HIM " 
— THE GETTYSBURG CHOIR — MICHIGAN STATE AGENT — DR. 
WINSLOW — MAKING PADS AND PILLOWS — ".USE ALL YOU 
WANT " — RECOMMENDING FOR A PENSION— tFLOWERS — THE 
OLD HERO OF GETTYSBURG — THE GETTYSBURG MAIDEN — 
AT THE STORE. 

The summer days glided swiftly away. The 
regular routine of hospital life was like the 
methodical operations of a thorough housekeeper. 
Men died, and in their empty beds others were 
speedily laid to recover or die also. Grain ripened 
ill the Pennsylvania valleys, and fruit hung 
lusciously on the bending orchard boughs. Birds 
sung ill the tops of the trees, under which, too 
preoccupied to drink in the momentary grandeur, 
nurses and surgeons took snatches of repose. 

"We grew familiar with sufferings of the in- 
tensest nature, for only those too badly wounded 
to be moved to other hospital points, had been left 
in Gettysburg, after the awful field had been 
gleaned. The hill slopes and wood front became 
the scene of busy hurrying to and fro. Nu'' 



172 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

darted in and out with their bedraggled skirts 
and shaker bonnets, hither and thither from 
Christian to Sanitary Commission, and thence to 
the general cook-house, each one eager to secure 
for her patients the greatest amount of luxuries. 

As only wounded men were in this field hos- 
pital, our duties were varied from what they had 
been at other points. The first round in the 
morning was to give the stimulants, and to attend 
to the distribution of the extra diet. After the 
thorough organization of the plan had been com- 
pleted, we were not called upon to dress wounds, 
unless by special request, wound dressers being 
assigned to each section of the ward ; but for a 
time, that duty had come next after the distribu- 
tion of the extra diet. 

Beef tea was passed three times a day, stimu- 
lants three times, and extra diet three times — 
making nine visits which each w^oman nurse made 
a day to each of the two hundred men under her 
charge. This was done besides washing the faces 
and combing the hair of those who were still un- 
able to perform these services for themselves, pre- 
paring the extra drinks ordered by the surgeons, 
and seeing that the bedding and clothing of every 
man was kept clean by the men nurses. We 
were not however responsible for any other neglect 
in the ward. 

Each attendant had his work. First the sur- 
geon in charge, next the hospital steward, then 
the ward surgeon, next women nurses, ward 



SCRAPS. ' 173 

masters, men nurses, wound dressers, and night 
watcli. The officer of the day made his round 
every two hours, day and night, ascertaining that 
no watchers were asleep, that they were per- 
forming their allotted duties, and to administer 
medical aid, if required. 

There was no conflicting of duty — each knew 
the task assigned him, and was constrained to 
keep in utter silence the many thoughts, which, 
in civil life, would have been given forth without 
restraint. Yet, no doubt, this silence was best 
amidst so many conflicting opinions. 

Each day, after the dinner hour was over, the 
kitchen was thoroughly searched for every scrap 
of meat, and any potatoes that may have been left. 
The nurses took their gleanings to their own 
quarters, with everything else out of which they 
could make a passable dish, and there the potatoes 
were peeled, and the meat cut in small bits. If 
we were fortunate enough to secure butter, eggs, 
sugar and milk, tempting messes were beaten up, 
and carried to the cook-house to be baked. 

In the early morning, after reveille had awak- 
ened us from our slumbers, and the bugle-call 
summoned us to our duties, the frosty grass was 
soon thickly striped over with tiny paths, and 
the fallen leaves trodden into the ground. After 
a hurried toilette, we nurses hastened to the 
kitchen, and seized on frying-pan, or any other 
utensil in which we could submit our gleanings to 
the process of cooking. 



174 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

On the hour, wlien tlie assistants, who had been 
busy taking up the regular diet to the wards, 
returned from that duty, our food was ready to go 
toward making up the meal, which to some, in 
their reneAved strength, had been insufficient. 
The satisfaction with which they ate our extras 
repaid us for the scramble in obtaining them. 

Often those poorly served by nurses, whose 
ambition was not like to ours, begged piteously 
of us for the food which they saw us carry by, but 
the distribution of it was strictly forbidden in this 
promiscuous manner, and we were obliged to deny 
them, hard as the necessity seemed. 

One day, as I passed up by a w^ard, holding a 
freshly baked cake in each hand, I saw a soldier 
lying under a tent, Avhich had been looped back to 
admit the soft air of the early autumn. He re- 
garded me wishfully, and, as I neared him, ho 
called out, " Oh, Miss Bucklin, -do give me a piece." 
"I cannot," I said; "it is forbidden, and your 
nurse will bake you some." " No she won't ; she 
nev^er does any such thing for us," he replied. 
Again he begged for a taste, and again I was 
obliged to refuse him, although it was sad and 
harrowing enough to behold the pleading eyes, 
and surmise how he longed for it. 

While the extra diet kitchen had been under 
the control of Mrs. Holstein, we had been for- 
bidden this privilege of preparing extra food our- 
selves, and were not even allowed to go inside of 
the kitchen — she deeming it necessary to keep a 



THE WniSKY BARREL. 175 

guard, with fixed bayonet, at the entrance. Often 
she refused to fill the orders from our surgeon, 
remarkino; that he was the most unreasonable 
man she ever saw. When I reported back to him, 
after failing to receive what I had been refused, 
he often went to the kitchen himself, and, wdth 
his own hands, cooked the food, saying that what 
w^as the rightful property of the patients, that they 
should have. 

His kindness to us won our highest respect, 
while it also made the contrast darker, when 
narrow-souled, selfish men, w^ho held in utter dis- 
regard the wants of the wounded soldiers, were 
placed in authority. 

My ward was especially fortunate in being, for 
some time, under the charge of Dr. Jones, whose 
care for the well-being of his men was not dele- 
gated to under-officials. 

Anything that it was in hia. power to do for us 
was ungrudgingly done, and many times he said 
to me, " I will give you orders for anything you 
want^ — only mention it to me." 

To have known such a man redeemed one's 
faith, somewhat, in human nature, which, during 
these times, was often sorely tried. There were 
men, in whose presence you felt as if a whisky 
barrel was w^ell represented, who had to be ap- 
proached with all the deference due the insignia 
of ofiice represented by their shoulder-straps. 
Often we felt that it was an insult to our woman- 
hood to be constrained to dve an outward show 



176 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

of respect when within there was nothing but 
loathing and detestation. 

When, in the darkness of midnight, a drunken 
surgeon staggered into the ward, and held at the 
tent-pole, swearing at the wondering patients, who 
were roused from their slumbers, and declaring he 
could not understand why the nurses had not un- 
covered the wounds for him to examine, he was 
generally confined until sober. It was difficult 
to see why, in the name of justice and common 
sense, he was retained, and why no punishment, or 
fine, or retention of pay was meeted out to him. 
For far less ofienses men, wearing the uniforms of 
private soldiers, were put on bread and water diet 
within the dirty walls of a guard-house. 

This surgeon, carelessly, and in disregard of 
duty, deputized to the wound-dressers all the care 
of the wounds. One fine-looking fellow, a son of 
Erin's isle, whose name was Peter Brock, was pro- 
voked by the neglect, and declared, with emphasis, 
that he would have his wounded shoulder ex- 
amined by a surgeon — if he couldn't get one to 
look at it there he would go where he could. He 
finally succeeded, by perseverance, in obtaining an 
examination. 

He was found to be in a very critical situation, 
and one after another of the surgeons were called 
in, till a regular council of doctors was held over 
him in the ward. It was found necessary to take 
off a section of the bone, and the operation was 
begun in full view of the other "oatients. 



THE GETTYSBURG CHOIR. 177 

After mangling liim there for a time, partly hold- 
ing him under the mfluence of chloroform, they 
removed him to the amputating room, where they 
paused awhile to have their photographs taken, 
the suffering patient lying in this critical condi- 
tion. My blood boiled at the cruelty of the scene, 
but I could not avert the torture for a moment. 
For three hours he was kept under the knife and 
saw, and I was directed to hold my peace. He 
was brought back to his bed, as white as a dead 
man in his coffin, no semblance remaining of the 
ruddy-cheeked soldier who lay there three hours 
before, with strength in every part of his body, 
save the wounded, shoulder. 

"I give him into your special charge. Miss 
Bucklin," the doctor said, " and I shall bo proud 
if you raise him." And raise him I did, although 
it seemed impossible w^hen I first saw him, lying 
quite white and helpless before me. 

I saw him depart for another hospital, wrapped 
in the grey overcoat belonging to the little rebel 
sergeant, who said he would never have any use 
for it again. 

We were not forgotten by the people of Gettys- 
burg. Day after day some tokens of their appre- 
ciation of us were manifested by them. Among 
other note-worthy incidents the choir came out 
twice each week to sing, in front of the wards, the 
old familiar hymns which these men loved. 

From over the land generous streams poured 
down into field and hospital, and noble-hearted, 

12.. 



178 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

men and women dispensed luxuries wliicli were 
without prize in the incalculable good they did. 
Mrs. Brainard, of Michigan, with her noble soul, 
entered into the work of distributing the supplies 
gathered up by the women of her State for the 
wounded and suffering. Mrs. Spencer, of New 
York, also aided in the good work. 

Dr. Winslow, of the Sanitary Commission, did 
an impartial and generous work, and, as the sum- 
mer passed, heavy drafts were still made on the 
constantly augmented supplies. The same gener- 
ous Commission also sent cars each alternate day 
in which to convey the wounded to other hospitals 
— each time taking a certain class of wounds. To 
the cars each woman nurse went as her patients 
were being taken thence, her arms full of pads and 
pillows to adjust around the yet unhealed limbs 
of the departing boys, and taking a nice lunch for 
each to eat on his journey. 

The making of these pads and pillows took 
away many a moment of mine, for I fancied I 
could fit them better than those who had never 
worked among the wounded. But I drew upon 
my devoted head. By thus doing, the severe dis- 
pleasure of the overseer of the linen room, who 
reported me for taking ?tos2>ital 2^iUoios, with which 
to stuff my pads. The surgeon in reprimanding 
me said, " Miss Bucklin," use all the pillows you 
want — you know they cost three dollars a pair, 
and that is more than a soldier's life is rated at 
here " — and I obeyed him to the letter. 



AT THE STORE. 179 

Some moments of clieerfulness enlivened our 
days — some light words were said even while the 
shadows of death lay thick about us. I remem- 
ber being startled by a remark of the surgeon's, 
that he was going to recommend me for a pension, 
as having done more than any one man to put 
down the rebellion. On my puzzled mquiry as to 
his meaning, he referred to the death of the thir- 
teen out of the twenty-two rebels, wlio had been 
placed under my charge. 

Ladies came up to the hospital with bright 
flowers, which looked strangely on the hard, 
hospital beds by faces so haggard and worn. 

The old hero of Gettysburg, John L. Burns^ 
came up through our camp, with tottering steps, 
anxious to see live rebels. He gazed on them as 
though uncertain of their connection with the 
human species, and went hobbling away — his old 
wife following in his footsteps. 

Sometimes we went, in our rambles, to various 
stores ; at others, out into the surrounding country. 
In one of these I saw the hole in the door made 
by the bullet which struck the maiden, Jennie 
Wade, to the heart, as she stood moulding her 
bread at the table. At one of the stores I made 
the purchase of a hat, shakers and other head- 
gear being out of the market, and this I hardly 
dared to wear, fearing the censure of the superin- 
tendent, who wished us to wear close shakers. 
When she came to make us a visit as she often, 
did; I threw it oflf in her presence. 



180 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 



CHAPTER XV. 

THE NEW WARD — TWO DEATHS — IN THE NEW CEMETEET — 
POISONED TO DEATH — "ITS ALL TJP WITH ME NOW " — 
FRIED CAKES — THE PICNICS — LIBERAL DONATIONS — PLANT- 
ING THE FLAG — THE NEW ORDER — HOT MILK AND COLD 
MILK — "but I MUST HAVE BOTH " — ENLIGHTENED — 
'* YOUR NAME, MADAM " — THE SHADOW OF RELIEF. 

On the discharge of a nurse her ward was 
given to me, and in it I found the man who had 
begged for the piece of cake and been refused. 
He was too ill to be indulged with anything of the 
kind noW; else in my compassion I would have 
fed him with the best food obtainable. He died 
in a short time after ; and in the six hours follow- 
ing, another one lay dead in the same section of 
the ward. My heart throbbed with pain to see 
them dropping off one by one, and look over into 
the full graveyard, where they lay sleeping in long 
unbroken ranks. 

These soldiers were of the first who were buried 
in the new National Cemetery at Gettysburg, and 
they were laid to sleep under that dewy sod 
Tv'ith military honors. At their burial the coffins 
draped with the flag preceded, the ambulances 
containing the women nurses followed, and then 
came the convalescents marching with reversed 



"it's all up with me now." 181 

muskets to the plats of ground set apart for the 
dead of the particular State to which the deceased 
belonged. 

In the hush of the lovely day, when the air 
seemed soft and bracing, we entered the cemetery, 
and reverently stood by the graves. Dr. Winslow, 
of the Sanitary Commission, officiated for the New 
York soldier, and the chaplain of the Christian 
Commission, for the one from Pennsylvania. 

The bodies of our men, who had been buried in 
the hospital cemetery, were afterwards exhimied, 
and each laid within the plat appropriated foE tke 
dead of his own State. But nearly two-thirds of 
the twelve hundred graves,, which had been made 
there, were filled with rebel dead, who will sleep 
in their unknown resting-places until the final 
awakening. 

One of my boys, from Ol Wisconsin regiment, 
whom we called Jimmy, became convalescent, 
and hourly expected a furlough to go home. He 
had not yet been taken from the medicine list, and 
one morning, as usual, took the prescription, but 
was soon compelled to lie down. He was seized 
with a deadly coldness, and shivered incessantly ; 
his muscles contracted with jerking movements, 
and great sweat-drops gathered on his cold fore- 
head. 

He sent for me, and, as I entered the ward, 
looked up and said, " It's all up with me now." I 
replied that we hoped yet to do something for 
him, but he shook his head doubtingly, and mo- 



182 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

tioned for me to sit by his bed. The surgeon was 
summoned, but he could do nothing to break tho 
chill of death, which was slowly stealing over him. 
He reached for my hand, and retained it, till one 
by one his senses left him. Just before the last 
convulsive shiver ran through his veins, one of 
the attendants took it from his grasp, remarking 
that it was a bad sign for any one to hold the 
hand of another when death came to the heart. 

He was then too far gone to realize anything, 
and at eleven o'clock he died. The last prescrip- 
tion, by some awful mistake, was deadly poison, 
and nothinor could have saved him. I had often 
heard him talk of home and friends, but do not 
know if they ever learned how he died, when he 
saw the dear prospect of soon meeting them in the 
near future. 

Thus they perished ; but the terrible weight of 
woe did not fall on any one soul, else it had 
crushed it into the depths of the grave. We 
sorrowed, but not as those who held those de- 
parted ones so dear to the heart; and the days 
came and went, carrying other separations in their 
train, and leaving their saddening influences. 

One of the Ohio boys came to me one night, and 
said, " We expect we've got to go off in the morn- 
ing, and we haven't any lunch ; couldn't you fix 
us something to-night V* 

As I had prepared lunches often for the boys, 
when we knew of their departure long enough be- 
forehand, I concluded to attempt a surprise move- 



THE PICNICS. 183 

ment, and told him if he would go with me to the 
•kitchen, and help gather the articles together, I 
would make some fried cakes — it was the best 
I could do for them. We went over to the 
bakery, and got a large piece of light bread- 
dough ; then to the store-house for eggs, sugar and 
spices; then to the tent, where the surplus fut 
was deposited, for the lard ; and he built up the 
fire in the kitchen, while I mixed the seasoning 
into the dough, and commenced frying them. 
There was no time to let them rise again, but 
they were quite light, notwithstanding. 

At daylight we had a huge basket filled, and 
when the cars were starting off with the Ohio 
boys, I saw it lifted up into their midst, and 
received with a cheer. 

The tempting beauty of our grand old woods 
suggested the enjoyments of peace, and a picnic 
was projected, and carried into operation by the 
hospital, assisted by the people of Gettysburg. 
But we were disappointed in the result — the 
rebel convalescents rushed in upon the tables, 
driving our men away, and a scene of confusion 
ensued. They learned of our failure in Philadel- 
phia, and one Sunday ni^it took up a collection 
in three of the churches, and raised eleven hun- 
dred dollars for another. The tables were set in 
the shadow of the woods, and looked beautiful, 
after every preparation was completed. 

This time the rebels were kept under guard 
until the Union soldiers had been served, and 



184 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

bountifully loaded trays carried into the wards, 
and the contents distributed amongst those who 
were allowed to* eat of them. In due time all 
received an ample supply of the choicest food 
their condition would admit of. 

We went to Round Top one day to plant a flag, 
and listen to a little speech from one of our sur- 
geons. We clambered over rocks, up steep, mossy 
ledges, till the height was attained, and there, 
standing on the top of shelving, out-cropping stone 
of huge dimensions, Dr. May planted the American 
flag, its folds floating out over the heads of the 
little group of nurses, who sat on the rocks at 
his feet. It waved there till we were far awav, 
and wintry winds tore it into shreds. 

In the midst of my absorbing labors at Gettys- 
burg, I came within a shadow of being relieved 
from duty, through my over-anxiety to secure for 
each patient the exact food adapted to his case. 
New orders were daily promulgated often relating 
to trifling things ; sometimes they were in existence 
a day or so before every attendant was made 
aware of them by the head surgeon. 

One order was issued stating that no nurse 
should receive from the milk depot more than 
one kind of milk, either cold or scalded — still, 
some of my patients were ordered scalded milk, 
and others cold milk by the ward surgeon. 

Not knowing of this order, I went one morning 
to the milk depot, but no milk had arrived. It 
was raining in torrents — the ground' was sodded, 



"tour name, madam?" 185 

and not a dry thread remained upon us as we 
went about with dripping garments, gathering up 
our daily supplies. The forenoon passed away, 
when I again went to the depot to ascertain if the 
milk had come in, and learned that it had. 

I said, " I will take so much cold milk, and so 
much hot milk, both morning and noon rations." 
Many of my men had not tasted food for the day. 
I was informed that I could have only noon 
rations, and only one kind of milk. " But I 
must have it," I said, in my eagerness, "my doc- 
tor orders both kinds, and I must have them." 

" There is an order allowing each nurse only 
one kind of milk," was the reply, and at that 
moment a rough voice startled me with the 
abrupt question, " What is your name, madam T 
I answered correctly, when the same voice said, " I 
relieve you ; go right out," motioning toward the 
entrance, where the rain seemed yet falling in 
wildest torrents. 

I opened my lips to frame some sort of remon- 
strance, but the authoritative, " Go right out — go 
right out," shut them up emphatically, and I went 
up to my quarters. Hourly I expected my relief 
papers, but they did not come. My ward surgeon 
came in, and, with several others, advised me in 
the premises. I was told that if once sent out 
by the rough surgeon, there would be no counter- 
manding my relief, and, for the sake of the boys, I 
had better go to Dr. Jaynes, who was then surgeon 
in charge^, and tell him I was not aware of the 



186 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

last order being issued, or I should not have 
insisted on receiving milk of both kinds. 

I smothered my pride of spirit, believing it 
•would hurt me less to make the humiliating state- 
ment than it would to go, and thereby leave the 
boys to other hands, when I knew that I more 
thoroughly understood their wants. I went to the 
quarters of the surgeon in charge, but hearing the 
sound of voices within, hesitated at the entrance. 
Fortunately Dr. Jaynes came out of the door very 
soon, and I explained to him the nature of my 
visit. " Well, in the future, be more careful," he 
replied, and by that answer only, I understood 
that I should not be relieved at present, and I 
went back to my work with my opinion of the 
arbitrary powers of surgeons in charge not very 
much improved. 



EVIDENCES OF DESTRUCTION. 187 



CHAPTER XVI. 

THE FIELD OF BATTLE — THE EVIDENCES OF DESTRUCTION — 

THE FADED ARMY BLUE GLEAMING SKULLS — A BLOODY 

HORROR — THE PITS OF DEATH — THE RAIN OF DEATH — 

FRIEND AND FOE THROUGH DENSE WOODS — TORN TURF 

LOPPED TREE BOUGHS — GRAVES OF THE SLAIN — ONE 

AUTUMN DAY THE QUIVERING OF THE FLESH — ALLURING 

PATHS — BATTLE RELICS — WHITE CLOUDS — THE CRICK ET'S 

CHIRP " FINISHED " — THE MOONLESS NIGHT — BREAKING 

UP — MY OCCUPATION GONE — DEDICATION OF THE NA- 
TIONAL CEMETERY — THE LAST VISIT — LEAVING GETTYS- 
BURG. 

I VISITED the battle ground on several occasions 
— tlie first time soon after the conflict, when the 
evidences of the horrid carnage which had ranged 
over it, lay on every hand in fearful, sights. Shells 
had fallen without exploding, tempting some 
of the curious and heedless to their destruction ; 
while everything that ingenuity could devise for 
the crushing out of human life seemed scattered 
promiscuously about. 

Battered canteens, cartridge-boxes, torn knap- 
sacks, muskets twisted by cannon shot and shell, 
rusted tin cups, pieces of rent uniform, caps, belts 
perforated with shot, and heaps of death's leaden 
hail, marked the spots where men were stricken 
down in solid ranks. Earlier in life it "would 



188 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

have been almost impossible for me to walk over 
such a field of horror, but I had grown familiar 
with death in every shape. Yet, when right 
above my head, at one place, so close that it 
touched me, hung a sleeve of faded army blue — a 
dead hand protruding from the worn and black- 
ened cuff — I could not but feel a momentary 
shudder. 

Boots, with a foot and leg putrifying within, lay 
beside the pathway, and ghastly heads, too — over 
the exposed skulls of which insects crawled — 
while great worms bored through the rotting eye- 
balls. Astride a tree sat a bloody horror, with head 
and limbs severed by shells, the birds having 
banquetted on it, while the tattered uniform, 
stained with gore, fluttered dismally in the sum- 
mer air. 

Whole bodies were flattened against the rocks, 
smashed into a shapeless mass, as though thrown 
there by a giant hand, an awful sight in tlieir 
battered and decaying condition. The freshly 
turned earth on every hand denoted the pits, from 
many of which legs were thrust above the scant 
covering, and arms and hands were lifted up as 
though pleading to be assigned enough earth to 
keep them from the glare of day. 

I could scarcely lay my hand upon the tree 
trunks but it touched an indentation made by a 
minnie ball — so thickly they had rained down 
among the products of these hills. 

Round Top, Little Eound Top, and Gulp's 



GRAVES OF THE SLAIN. 189 

Hill were the spots around wliich our interest 
centred. From the slopes on their rocky sides 
thousands of brave men had gone to sleep when 
the battle clouds hung over them, and every grass- 
blade seemed to have been stained with blood. 

Down in the ravines, where the water trickled 
cold and silently over slimy rocks, they bad 
fallen — friend and foe — with death shrieks and 
cries, and the life stream had mingled with the 
flow of the little gurgling brook. Up rocky 
steeps, which seemed almost impassable to our 
unburdened feet, the artillery had been driven to 
where they belched forth the fires of death upon 
steadily advancing ranks of men. 

Through dense woods they poured their stream- 
ing fire of death, and the long lines of entrench- 
ments marked where two brave corps, the 
Eleventh and Twelfth, rolled back the grey tide 
which rose in fearful waves before them. 

Every advantageous position was marked with 
torn turf, lopped tree boughs, and the graves of 
the slain. Indeed, our whole way was lined with 
the narrow strips of earth, which rested over 
forms gashed with the implements of carnage. It 
was heart-sickening to think of the deep agony 
which those few dreadful days spread abroad 
among the little groups at the firesides of fond 
homes all over the land. In fancy I saw the long 
procession of widows, and orphans, and kindred, 
who mourned for the slaughtered heroes. Every 
grave had its history, and thousands were there. 



190 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

I went again over the field one hazy afternoon, 
when autumn began to cast its leaves over the 
graves — the many, colored glories, yet green and 
tender having drifted down into the hollows, and 
over the trenches where dead men lay rotting. 
Sometimes bodies were so completely wrapped up 
with the fallen leaves that, unconsciously, I 
stepped upon them — the quivering of the loose 
flesh making my feet unsteady, and the thought 
of the awful pit below sending me away with no 
little amount of nervous terror. 

The paths leading along, with every evidence 
of the conflict hidden under the dropping foliage, 
were alluring to the feet of the nurses. We had 
been shut so much within the limits of the hospi- 
tal grounds, that we heeded little the space over 
which we passed, as we went on, and on — gather- 
ing fragments of shell, battered bullets ; mosses, 
which had held, among their tiny leaves, the life- 
blood of a hero; scraps of curious stones, which 
had been loosened by the hail of shrapnell ; and 
canister, solid shot, and tiny wild flowers, which 
sprung up in the rocky crevices. 

The blue sky above us was flecked with white 
clouds, which seemed to be moving above the 
golden haze like the great expanded lilies of snow, 
which I had seen swimming on the bosom of a 
mimic lake. The trees stood half-stripped, with 
here and there tufts of variegated leaves clinging 
tenaciously to the parent bough. 

Amid all our buoyancy and interest in the 



THE MOONLESS NIGHT. 191 

tilings around us, at times the sigh of the wind 
grew unspeakably sad, as though ghosts haunted 
it, and burdened it with woe. No birds sang to 
us from the depths of the dismantling woods; soli- 
tary crows wheeled in awkward, dusky flight 
above us, the unmusical "caw, caw," echoing 
through the quiet air, while the cricket's chirp 
was loud in the clumps of rank grass. 

No words can express the feeling of utter deso- 
lation, which will sweep over the human soul, at 
times, in spite of all philosophy. The very beauty 
and perfection of the mellow autumn day, when 
"finished," seems to be lettered on every visible 
thing, tends only to heighten the melancholy. 
We know the ermine robe of winter will soon 
wrap them up, and enfold them till the resurrec- 
tion of spring; but when the mellow beauty is 
swung over a field like Gettysburg — where so 
many poured out the wine of life ; where the very 
name of the field brings tears to the eyes of 
thousands of mourners — is it any wonder that, 
with feet standing upon the sacred sod, the very 
air seems haunted, as well as hallowed, and every 
wind the sigh of a ghostly presence. 

We stopped to gather the ripened nuts from 
under black walnut and hickory trees to take 
back into camp, and so intently did we indulge in 
this new pastime, that we scarcely noticed the sun 
hanging low in the west. With feelings of con- 
sternation we found ourseh^es at sunset seven 
miles away, and a moonless night before us. 



192 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

"VYe had come over the rough, rocky hill-sides, 
up which rebel and union infantry had swept 
under enfilading fires — had crossed the 'dark, 
sunless stream known as Plum Run, but knew it 
would be utter folly to attempt the return over 
the same path — and we took the old road leading 
to the little town. After numberless mishaps — 
so weary that any slight obstacle in our way 
seemed an effectual stumbling-block — we reached 
the hospital, and were met by some of our com- 
panions, in the capacious tent which I occupied, 
and which served as a sort of reception tent for all 
the nurses, besides accommodating Mrs. Johnson 
and her convalescing husband. There we cracked 
the gathered nuts, and enjoyed them all the better 
after the toil was over. 

The hospital was at last to be broken up. No 
more need seemed to exist of supporting such a 
giant camp, away from the field of active opera- 
tions, and we saw car load after car load depart, 
as comfortably arranged with pillows and j)ads as 
was possible. Amidst repeated shouts of, " Come 
to Ohio, Miss Bucklin, I will take care of you as 
long as you live," — " Come out to Michigan, you 
shall always have a home with me," the " good- 
by^' was spoken, the last ones were gone, all ex- 
citement was over, and I lay down on my iron 
bedstead, too weak and ill to lift my head from 
my pillow. 

All were gone — my occupation was gone ; the 
strain of months was suddenly let go, and I found 



DEDICATION. 193 

how much the strength of my hands depended on 
keeping them steadily employed. 

The hospital tents were removed — each bare 
and dust-trampled space marking where corpses 
had lain after the death-agony was passed, and 
where the wounded had groaned in pain. Tears 
filled my eyes when I looked on that great field, 
so checkered with the ditches that had drained it 
dry. So many of them I had seen depart to the 
silent land ; so many I had learned to respect, 
and my thoughts followed them to other hospitals, 
and to the fresh battle fields, which would receive 
them, when health was fully restored. 

The dedication of the new National Cemetery, 
was to take place immediately, and the surgeon 
ofiered us our old quarters, and the privilege of 
keeping up our mess table, if we wished to remain 
until after the event. Miss Plummer, the only 
remaining Government nurse, and myself had been 
ordered to report to Washington, from whence 
after ten days of rest, we expected to be sent 

to North Carolina for duty. 

The crowds began to arrive in the battle 
town, eager to be present at the great dedication. 
Gettysburg was full to its utmost capacity, and 
again the white tents were spread on the hospital 
ground, to accommodate the crowds of people, who 
had journeyed hither from all points. 

We watched the surging of the human waves — 
secure in our tented home, and sewed at the gar- 
ments which were to make us j)resentable to the 

..13 



194 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

superintendent — the long months having told con- 
siderably u]3on our wearing apparel. Our dresses 
had many times been mud-stained, and stiffened 
five inches above the feet, and our shoes were often 
wet, till they dried upon the feet by the natural 
process. 

Not a moment of active hospital life could be 
spared for mending purposes — too many rent bodies 
needed us — and all my effects, with which I had 
come to Gettysburg, were rolled up in a news- 
paper. I was therefore in a poor condition to 
appear before one whom we knew to be the imper- 
sonation of neatness and propriety. 

We sat by the light of our lamps those autumn 
evenings, and sewed and talked of the brave ones 
gone. We could hear the rush of the officers' 
horses as they swept up into the woods, and the 
tramp of the orderlies seeking out quarters. Ours 
was a double tent, a smaller one having been at- 
tached to the main tent, and in that we had stowed 
away the many little contrivances whi'ch we wished 
out of si"ht. 

The tent-cloth was tied down securely, and a 
bright fire burned in our little stove, close to which 
the stand was drawn. While the hurried feet 
went by us, one pair seemed to stop to reconnoitre. 
" Halloo ! there's women in there," we heard in 
surprise, while some one withdrew his head 
from the aperture. 

In the morning we found that three or four 
Ettle ebony waiters had slept under the wing of 



THE LAST VISIT. 195 

onr tent, and we had been unconscious of the fact 
through the night. Our wash-dish was gone, and 
in fact every other movable piece of convenience 
which had been lying about. Some of the 
articles, however, were returned by gentlemanly 
officers, on learning from whom they had been 
purloined. 

On the 19th of November the dedication took 
place. It was a clear autumn day, and the last 
leaves of summer were fluttering down upon the 
newly broken sod, and over the dense crowds of 
thousands, who seemed packed like fishes in a 
barrel. We stood, almost suffocated, for an hour 
and three-quarters, listening to the masterly 
oration of the lamented Everett. 

The calm, honest face of the President at once 
exhibited a pride of country, and an affection for 
her fallen sons unusual among those high in au- 
thority. His soul was unconscious that -he him- 
self, ere the consummation of the great sacrifice, 
should be given up to the death by which 
martyred soldiers die. 

We went out to the home of Mi's. Welty, who 
had been one of our faithful nurses since the es- 
tablishment of the hospital, and whose sickness 
I have spoken of previously. The substantial 
farm house of brick had escaped the devastation 
of battle ; no shells had been thrown into its cool 
pleasant rooms — but the tramp of rebel feet had 
sounded by it for hours, as the long lines of grey 
moved by, unconscious that the field of conflict 



196 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

was so near. We enjoyed her hospitality in an 
excellent dinner, and returned to take the ambu- 
lance that drove to the town, thence to proceed 
to Washington in the cars. 

We felt sorrowful when we left. Those hills 
had become familiar to our eyes, and as they 
receded from our view many parting tears were 
shed in memory of the dead who died upon 
them. 

At Baltimore we visited the hospital ; but were 
refused admittance to the west buildings, in which 
our rebel patients were confined — being told by the 
guard that he " could not admit his own mother." 

From Washington we were sent to the Seminary 
Hospital for quarters, to enjoy a ten day's rest. 
We needed it sadly ; we were sun browned and 
worn down from exposure ; our clothing needed 
replenishing — after which we were ready for the 
work again. 



A BOX OF LUXURIES. 197 



CHAPTER XVII. 

THE CAVALRY POST HOSPITAL — A BOX OF LUXURIES — 
CHILLED TO THE BONE — ASSIGNED TO NEW DUTY — CAMP 
STONEMAN — THE OLD BROWN HOUSE — THE JEALOUS NURSE 
— THE EXTEMPORIZED COOKING UTENSILS — GREAT POWERS 
OP ENDURANCE — PLENTY TO EAT — ^TANGLED THORNS — 
NIGH TO DEATH — " MARY, STAY WITH ME TO-DAY !" — THE 
MIDNIGHT WATCH — "HOW COULD YOU LEAVE ME ALL 
ALONE !" — THE GOOD SLEEP — GONE HOME AT LAST. 

It was finally decided that we should not go to 
North Carolina, but a way nevertheless opened up 
to me for the resumption of labor. Mrs. Parker 
called for me one day, while I was at Seminary 
Hospital, to accompany her on a visit to Camp 
Stoneman — a cavalry post hospital situated six 
miles from Washington. 

We found the men at that place in need of 
many things — the hospital having just been 
organized, and having only one woman to minister 
to the wants of five hundred. Mrs. Parker en- 
gaged herself at distributing stores, having been 
provided by Government with an ambulance, 
horses and driver for that purpose. A box of 
needed luxuries, which had been sent to me from 
the ladies of the Cazenovia Aid Society, while 
at Wolf-street Hospital, still remained at ^-'^ 



198 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

Nichol's house, and I proposed to Mrs. Parker tliat 
if she would call for me the day folio wmg, I 
would take some dried and canned fruit to the 
men. 

She accordingly called for me, and we went 
over the rough road, the bitter November winds 
chilling us to the very bone, as they swept wildly 
by us. I did not remember having ever taken a 
colder ride. 

Y\e arrived half-frozen at the tented hospital, 
hardly able to put our numbed feet upon the hard 
ground. Government did not provide women 
nurses for post hospitals, but the surgeon in 
charge, Dr. Higgins, expressed a wish that Miss 
Dix would send him half a dozen, for the reason 
that he needed their help very badly. 

I was sent for on the following day, and ordered 
to report to Miss Dix. In reply to an inquiry, I 
related to her the incident of my visit to Camp 
Stoneman, and the expressed wish of the surgeon 
for help. 

" I had hoped to get you more comfortable 
quarters than a tent will be this inclement win- 
ter," she said. " You have been exposed to all 
kinds of weather for many months ; but if you 
wish it, you can go to Camp Stoneman, and I will 
pay you." 

I replied that I had not sought or expected 
ease in coming out to the army ; yet I added that 
it was not clear to my mind why women nurses 
had not been paid in post hospitals as well as in 



THE OLD BKOWN HOUSE. 199 

the general hospitals. She explained that no 

stipulation was made for their being employed in 

such, and consequently no provision had been 

made for their pay. 

It was a wide field for willins; hearts, and no 
• ... . ^ 

one needed to sit within the limits of that camp 

with idle hands. So, trusting that our generous 
Government would reimburse Miss Dix, I accepted 
an appointment at- Camp Stoneman, received my 
papers, and, on the following day the Superin- 
tendent sent her housekeeper thither, with me 
and my effects. 

The location was beautiful ; a hill-side sloping 
down to the bright Potomac — a part of the wards 
under the overarching boughs of a peach orchard 
— in summer it must have been a lovely spot. 
Now, in the, drear November, the winds moaned 
through the boughs, and tliey apparently stretched 
up their brown warty hands imploringly to the 
pitiless sky. 

The tents were the most comfortable I ever 
saw ; good board floors were laid down, and stoves 
threw out their genial heat, subduing the biting 
frost w^hich had settled thickly everywhere with- 
out. 

A room in an old brown house, a short distance 
from these tents, served as our quarters, and the 
linen room was located on the same floor. A 
rebel family occupied the lower part of the house 
by sufferance — having a wild, frouzj^-headed girl 
who went about with every soldier who would 



200 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

speak a soft word in her ear ; and sons, drunken 
rough fellowS; who did cobbling in a room directly 
at the foot of my bed. 

The cook-house was the open ground on which 
Mrs. Alexander and I met, after parting ^t our 
quarters in the old house, when the bugle call 
sounded in the early morning. She was an old 
French woman, whose home was in New York, 
where she had a son and daughter then living. I 
had been warned that I could not live in the same 
hospital with her; that although a kind nurse, to 
all of her sex she was a tigress in her jealous fear 
of usurpation. 

She was old, past sixty, and fast verging upon 
her second childhood. A woman ranging the 
cook-house as she did was not to be tolerated in 
her pretentions, and I sought no favor from her 
She appropriated every stew-pan and kettle in 
the kitchen, and stuffed her patients with extra 
diet, while mine went without- She met me 
with angry looks of defiance and disdain, as I 
passed her to and fro in my rounds. 

After a little studying I went to the dispensary, 
and procured long tin cans which had once been 
filled with medicines, cleaned them, . and sent 
them over to St. Elizabeth Hospital, where a 
tinner put on balls and handles, and cut them 
down to a proper size — in these I cooked beef 
tea, chicken soup, rice, mush, oysters, eggs and 
scalded milk. I was constrained, through the 
operation, either to remain there myself, to see 



THE JEALOUS NURSE. 201 

that tliey were not removed from the stove, or 
to detail a watch from among the cooks favorable 
to my cause — as at several times, on being called 
away by some little circumstance, I found them 
sitting on the bare ground uncooked, and the 
stove filled with utensils holding food for Mrs. 
Alexander's patients. 

It .was difficult for me to understand why she 
persisted in this annoyance of me, and the conse- 
quent discomfort of my men. I could hardly 
believe she carried a sound mind in the frame 
which seemed to have so little effeminacy about 
its immense proportions. 

Sometimes, when the day was ended, and we 
were in our quarters together — for we both occu- 
pied the room in the old brown house — she 
would condescend to overstep her feelings of 
scorn, and converse on various topics. Her 
powers of endurance were astonishing. She said 
she had walked ten miles many an evening, and 
then danced all night. At times she would give, 
in her moments of relaxation, impromptu exhibi- 
tions of her lightness and gracefulness in a few 
changing steps on the floor, wdiich shook beneath 
her unwieldy frame 

In her jealous fear that her rights might be 
invaded by me, she resorted to a weak woman's 
revenge. I was endeavoring to serve the country's 
heroes, however, and I studiously avoided all 
causes for unpleasantness. I was not allowed to 
come into open conflict w^ith her, even had I 



202 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

dared, and was constrained to suffer annoyance 
by the assurance of the surgeon that I should 
have a kitchen all to myself in the new wooden 
wards which were building, and would soon be in 
readiness for us. 

The patients were divided between us for 
general supervision — each having seven tented 
wards assigned us. Shortly afterwards a small 
tent, in which the hopelessly ill were carried, was 
also given into my charge. Typhoid fever was 
the prevalent disease in my tents when I first en- 
tered them, and a hundred men lay tossing and 
burning in the coils of the insidious malady. 

Our accommodations for cooking were insuffi- 
cient at first, having only one stove and caldron 
by which to furnish food for five hundred men ; 
but the new cook-house was in process of erection, 
and we waited anxiously for its completion. We 
had, in all, nine cooks. The raw material for our 
supplies, including milk and oysters, was brought 
daily from the Washington markets in very gener- 
ous quantities. There was no lack of good things 
by which to tempt the fliigging appetites. 

It was a privilege to me to prepare this extra 
diet myself, and the cooks were equally glad to 
have part of their task taken from their hands. 
Sometimes, however, I grew disheartened under 
the difficulties that had to be contended with, and, 
but for the knowledge that so many waited for the 
daintily prepared bits of food, I should have given 
over the task at once. 



"mart, stay with me to-dat." 203 



The wintry winds whistled sharply through the 
bare orchard and about our hospital, but we were 
only prompted to greater effort to render our sick 
and wounded comfortable. We had patients who 
were very nigh to death, while some had already 
passed from us over the chilling tide. 

Our duties began before daylight streaked the 
East, and continued till long after the sun had 
gone to rest behind the cloud-capped hills of the 
"West. We washed the faces of those fever-tortu- 
red men, combed out the dry, tangled hair, admin- 
istered the cooling drinks, and distributed the 
extra diet amongst them. No sights of dis- 
tressing wounds and agonized faces unnerved us 
with their sudden presence ; but it was sad to 
witness the delirium of fever, and hear the sick 
one call meaningly for mother, wife, or sister. At 
times they looked up with their bright, glassy 
eyes, and fancied they saw the loved one standing 
beside them to comfort them in the hour of trial.. 

I had been there nearly a month, when, on en- 
tering the ward one morning, I was accosted by a 
sick soldier with the pleading words, " Oh, Mary, 
stay with me to-day; you can care for me so much 
better than these men — do stay, Mary!" and he 
looked so earnestly and pitifully up into my face, 
I could not refuse him outright. I said, " I have 
a hundred men as sick as you are to look after to- 
day." 

"I will not trouble you long," he continued; 
'^ you can care for them when I am gone." 



204 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

I promised to pass all the time I possibly could 
by his bedside, and did so through the entire day. 
As night came darkly on, he said, " Will you stay 
through the night with me ?" 

I replied that it was against the orders of the 
surgeons for women nurses to remain in the wards 
after half-past eight in the evening. The ward 
master, however, obtained consent for me to re- 
main if I choose to do so, and all through the 
gloom}' hours I sat by the death-stricken man, 
my body chilled to the marrow, while the steady 
tramp of the sentinel around the camp sounded 
fearfully distinct over the frozen ground. 

He was so fearful I should leave him when he 
dropped asleep, that he laid his arais across my 
lap, and clutched my dress with his thin, weak 
hands. Once only I left him, to warm my 
numbed feet and hands, when the " intense cold 
became insupportable, and had barely seated my- 
self by the stove, when he called out, wildly, 
*' Mary ! oh, Mary ! where are you ?" Quickly 
returning, he met me with the reproachful words, 
" How could you leave me all alone, Mary !"' 
replacing his arms across my lap, where they 
remained almost motionless until morning. As 
daylight appeared, he said, "Now, Mary, go to 
your quarters and sleep awhile, for I want you to 
return to me to watch for the worst." 

His lieutenant soon came hi, and after convers- 
ing with him awhile, left the tent never more to 
look into his conscious eyes. Very often he would 



THE GOOD SLEEP. 205 

say, as tlie gray morning dawned, " I shall sleep 
good to-night, Mary, and then you can rest 
also." 

His disease was in his heart, and he rested com- 
paratively easy all day, only at times was he trou- 
bled for breath. As the day drew to a close he grew 
restless, and complained that his bed was hard. 
We changed him to another, and made his own up 
soft and comfortable again. One of his gasping 
fits came upon him immediately after, and in 
broken words he said, " I want to see my lieu-, 
tenant — it is almost over with me now." 

An orderly was dispatched to the camp, a mile 
and a half away, but when he returned, accom- 
panied by the officer, he was unable to recognize 
him. I said to him, " Your lieutenant is here." 

" I cannot hear you," was the faint reply, and 
as I spoke still louder, he answered, "I cannot 
see him." 

" You had better tell him what you have to say 
now," I continued, " you may have another attack 
soon." 

"/^ is too late — I cannot tell him," was the 
agonized reply, and he fell into a spasm which 
lasted about five minutes, and then, with a quick 
convulsive shudder through all his frame, his 
spirit was released, and his poor worn out body 
rested in the good sound sleep of which he had so 
often spoken. 

While yet conscious, he had shown me a lady's 
ring on his little finger, and requested that it 



206 m HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

should be given to bis lieutenant, wbo would 
know what to do with it even if he arrived too 
late. When the last spasm came on, he held up 
his hands motioning with the finger on which 
shone the little plain circlet, and after he was 
dead I removed it, and gave it to the officer, in 
accordance with his last wish. 

Taking a shirt, drawers and stockings from the 
box of stores which the women of Cazenovia 
had forwarded to me through the Eev. Wm. 
Ready, pastor of the Methodist Episcopal Church 
in that place, the body was soon made in readi- 
ness for Ijurial. His lieutenant, however, accom- 
panied the remains to Washington, where an 
elegant shroud and coffin was procured, and he 
was forwarded to his parents in Syracuse for 
interment. 



THE DYING HUSBAND. 207 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE DYIXG HUSBAND — A PUESE FOE THE WIDOW — JIY UN- 
FINISHED WOEK — THE TEA AND TOAST — THE EOUGH SUE- 
GEON — IDLE HANDS — SO WEAEY — WOMAN's PEESENCE — 
EAPID EECOVEEY — TAKING UP THE WOEK — EXTEAOE- 
DINAEY CONFUSION — ST. ELIZABETH'S HOSPITAL — MOE- 
TALITY TENT — SUDDEN DEATH — A DISTEESSING CASE — "MY 

SISTEES COULD NOT DO MOEE FOE ME " MOVING THE WAED 

— NEW WHITE DISHES — MY NEW QUAETEES — THE WASTING 
ENEEGIES— A EAGING FEVEE. 

I T\"ENT from this last scene to my quarters Avith 
a sad and heavy heart, to meet there a stricken 
woman just widowed by the death of her husband 
in the same ward. She ha,d come on from Pliila- 
delphia to see him. She found him very low 
when she arrived, yet he seemed to realize the 
fact of her presence, and a more restful feeling 
took possession of him. He had been suffering 
many weeks from chronic diarrhoea. 

She told me of her circumstances — of tlie four 
little children she had to leave at home ; how 
she had taken in washing, and gone out to labor 
to obtain the monej^ to enable her to make the 
journey to see her dying husband. She quartered 
with me in the old brown house, and I had the 
deepest sjmipathy for her in her forlorn condition. 
All night, while I attended the dying man in our 



208 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

ward, she sat by the bedside of her husband, 
agonized by the thought of the death which even 
then was steahng away his senses. 

He died, and her case was laid before the sur- 
geon in charge of the hospital. Dr. Higgins, and 
the story wrought for itself a considerate hearing. 
He gave her transportation for herself and the 
body home. A good coffin was procured, the 
body well laid out, his descriptive list found, and 
everything arranged to enable her to draw his 
bac]\: pay, which was for more than a year, on her 
reaching Philadelphia. We also made up a purse 
of forty-seven dollars for her, and I then felt that 
the cold weather, which was already set in, need 
not be passed by herself or children in want of any 
of the comforts and necessaries of life, 

I was for a time more than ordinarily depressed 
by these scenes, and with the constant thought of 
sorrows with which each successive death was 
accompanied added to these, I found myself grow- 
ing nervous and ill. On the following morning I 
awoke so hoarse that I could not speak aloud. I 
at first supposed I had taken cold in the long 
dreary night's watch. Soon, however, I found 
myself unable to perform my accustomed duties, 
and was necessitated to take my bed, where I 
tossed with pain, while I suffered considerable 
anxiety concerning my unfinished work. 

The doctor soon pronounced my disease to be 
the measles, and I was left to the tender mercies 
of whoever could be spared to me. 



woman's presence. 209 

Old Aunty Alexander, being sent up one morn- 
ing with a drink and toast, brought me sage tea 
boiled in an ancient coffee-pot, to which the old 
grounds still adhered. The mixture was of an 
unbearable character. The toast was a tough 
blackened crust — so hard I could not have eaten 
it had I tried. Both were set so far from my bed- 
side that I could only reach them by making the 
greatest exertion. They lay untouched when 
Dr. Higgins entered, who, after drawing the chair 
toward him, and scanning the contents, gave vent 
to the rough exclamation, " My God, what is this 
stuff?" 

" Some toast and tea old aunty brought me," I 
replied. After an interchange of a few additional 
sentences he went into the linen room, which lay 
near, and where I overheard him say to private 
Harmon, who superintended there, " I want you 
to see to her — don't you let that fire go down 
night or day — anything she wants, that her 
disease will admit of, you see that she has it." 

And so I had an attendant who watched over 
me like a brother. Through those long days and 
nights in which my restless fancy tortured me 
with images of every shape, my hands grew so 
tired of idly resting on the coarse blanket, and 
my eyes so weary of scanning the blank walls, 
that I thought I should lose my senses in the dull 
dreary place. 

Soon, however, a soldier's wife came to Camp 
Stoneman and made her quarters in my room. I 

14 



210 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

was glad to see the face of a woman once more, 
and to bear a soothing female voice. Yet, all had 
been very kind to me. The great, rough, bear- 
like surgeon in charge opened some of the hid- 
den recesses of his heart, and I was convinced 
that some genuine kindness lay buried deep under 
the ruijbish of worldly ambition. Soon the tide 
of strenfrth be2;an to rise over the slucro-ish stream 
of life ; and I assayed to step upon my feet and 
walk, clinging to the walls with my weak hands. 

My recovery was rapid after the disease had 
loft me. But I regarded my escape as fortunate 
in view of the many cases of the measles that 
Vv^ere lost, after the patient had recovered suffi- 
ciently to go about the ward. Pneumonia usually 
attacked them, and death ensued speedily. 

I took up my old work when I could little more 
than stagger over the simplest duty. I was so 
eager to escape the confinement and gloominess of 
the sick room that my tasks seemed like pleasant 
pastime if I could only perform them. I even 
felt that I was sustained by a strength not en- 
tirely my own, through those trying hours. I 
worked in the kitchen long before I v/as able to 
venture out into the mad, which, at times was 
ankle deep, through the streets of the hospital ; 
but as soon as I dared, I went amongst my old 
patients, ascertaining by personal inspection how 
they fared — ^wliat each one needed. 

I was met with the frequent complaint that the 
attendants had appropriated the extra diet for 



EXTRAORDINARY CONFUSION. 211 

their own use since I had been ill. Although I 
could now remedy this matter, I felt somewhat 
indignant at the men who in their own daily 
rations had the best and most substantial of food. 
In my usual health I took the round of the wards 
with the doctor every morning, when each day's 
extra rations were served without delay. 

In the bare kitchen — which consisted of a few 
rough boards on the sides, with a fly for the roof, 
and the bare ground for the floor, having a few 
unpainted boards in one corner for a cup1)oard — I 
worked through hours of suffering and inconve- 
nience. But I hoped soon to get into the new cook- 
house, where I should be exempt from the 
annoyance which chafed my weak soul and 
perplexed me in the work of my still trembling 
hands. 

"We prepared the food on the same rough table 
on which we ate, and ofttimes, with the nine cooks 
busy about the little tent calculating for the 
stomachs of five hundred men, we presented a 
scene of extraordinary confusion. I was many 
times compelled to take cei'tain articles of food to 
my quarters to prepare them, for in my con- 
dition I grew almost wild in this seeming babel 
of tongues. 

. Often after my convalescence, while sitting on 
my bed, with the light on a little stand which the 
carpenter had made for us, and a fire warming the 
atmosphere through the musty little room, I de- 
vised plans for the relief of those whom home and 



212 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

its joys could alone really comfort in the de- 
spondency of their souls. Day after day passed 
with the steady changes which death wrought, 
and which were made by reason of new patients 
coming in. 

At times when the air was calm, and the bright 
sun shone beautifully from the blue heavens, I 
pervailed upon Mrs. Alexander to walk out to the 
river with me, and down to the graves which lay 
in sight. We visited St. Elizabeth Hospital, used 
as an asylum for insane soldiers — used before the 
war as a hospital for insane persons. 

Here artificial limbs were manufactured to a 
great extent, and it was quite curious to see the 
many intricate appliances harmoniously at work in 
this locality. 

Not often, however, could we escape the sight of 
our suffering fever patients. Not often did we feel 
an inclination to have the opportunity to go out 
over the frozen roads during the cold days, or over 
the muddy pathways during the warm days. 
AVhen an opportunity was afforded and we went 
out, the thought of the sick and their claim upon 
us brought us hurriedly back again. 9(^ 

Into my small tent, called the " Mortality 
Tent," another soldier was carried to die, his dis- 
tressing cries and groans resounding through tlie 
ward, and startling the fevered fancies of those over 
whom the same delirium was hanging. He had 
been a fast liver — had drank deeply of intoxica- 
ting beverages, and, upon receiving a bad wound 



A DISTRESSING CASE. 213 

in his side, his enfeebled constitution had not suf- 
ficient strength to resist it. He sunk into a rapid 
consumption, and died a wretched death. 

Another man, the father of a Large family, 
whose wife was giving all her energies to the 
proper care of the large dairy farm which he left 
behind to take up arms for his country, had been 
ill with fever, but was thought to be recovering. 
The danger was so evidently passed that, upon the 
arrival of every mail, he expected to receive his 
furlough to go home on a visit. 

He was stricken down suddenly again, and I 
was sent for to administer to his wants. Doing 
what I could for him at the time, I promised to 
see him again early in the morning. When morn- 
ing came I found his bed standing outside the 
ward, and his body was lying in the dead-house 
awaiting burial. 

There were some distressing cases of erysipelas 
in camp. One soldier, who had been transferred 
from the Fifth New York Cavalry, was enduring 
terrible agony from it. The attendant wished me 
to give special attention to his case, and conducted 
me to his bedside. His eyes were shut with the 
swollen lids, and every feature swollen to im- 
mense proportions, whilst a bad wound on his 
shin bone was constantly irritated by the eruptive 
fever. 

As I spoke to him of his sickness, the big tears 
rolled down his face, and he said, "I have two 
sisters, Avho would be only too glad to come and 



214 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

care for mo, if they were made aware of my con- 
dition." I learned afterward that he was an only 
son, and a man of more than ordinary intellect. 

I replied, " Let me be your sister for the time — 
I will do all that can be done for you here. 
Eemember this is not their home, with nice rooms, 
kind friends and downy pillows to make them 
comfortable. You would not wish them here to 
endure camp life, when they are unused and 
un suited to its hardships. 

After some more conversation he seemed to 
grow quite reconciled to his situation, and when I 
went to his bedside the next morning he seemed 
overjoyed at recognizing my voice, and said, "How 
I longed for the morning; I wanted to hear a 
woman's voice; I can sometimes dream I am at 
home." 

I bathed his scaled face in a cooling preparation, 
combed out his hair, and cleaned his finger nails, 
removed the dead scales from his cheek and fore- 
head, and laid over the whole a wet cloth. What 
a glow of gratitude. I felt that I had been given 
strength to stand in a sister's place, when he 
sighed out softly, " How much better I feel ; my 
sisters could not do more for me." 

We had quite a number of these cases. One of 
the attendants was down with the same loathsome 
disease, and lying in the tier of beds directly oppo- 
site this soldier. There were then three tiers of 
beds standing lengthwise through the ward. Two 
more men were soon added to the number, one of 



NEW WHITE DISHES. 215 

wKoin died, after his head had swollen to the size of 
a water pail, and the eruption had spread all through 
his system. He suffered intensely, and died in a 
delirium. 

My strength was inadequate to the demand 
made upon it. I could not go through the wards 
as often as I had done, and finally arranged to see 
each man once a day, and the worst cases twice. 
The remainder of the time I passed in the kitchen 
preparing drinks and cooking extra diet. In this 
way I labored till my strength returned in part, 
when we were moved into the new wards v/hich 
had been building. 

The notice was given me in the morning by my 
ward surgeon. Dr. Christman, and, before noon, 
one hundred of the sickest was comfortable in his 
bed, and the cooked dinner was spread in the diu- 
iug-hall for convalescents. 

The ward had been thoroughly cleaned and 
dried, and everything was in order. The stoves 
were not up when I went over to begin the work 
of assorting the great heaps of new dishes just un- 
packed ; but there were many hands, and the 
work was speedily accomplished. 

It was a sad sight to see the stretchers borne 
quickly along the paths by the hands of the 
attendants. They looked still and death-like, 
reminding us of corpses being borne to the dead- 
house. They were, however, more comfortable 
in a short time in their new quarters. The new 
kitchen was a fine one indeed although open at 



218 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

the north and south, having no door by which to 
shut off the draught of cold air. 

My quarters were located at the extreme end 
of the ward, and, with the exception of the dis- 
pensary, it was the only one partitioned from the 
wards. I was moved there, bed and baggage, 
leaving old aunty in undisputed possession of the 
room in the old brown house, and the stove in the 
old kitchen. 

Everything passed off smoothly, and the full 
diet was cooked on our new stoves. A commis- 
sary sergeant was detailed to work for me, and 
for that purpose the kitchen was divided. I was 
fortunate in gaining the favor of the hospital 
steward, and the tables and trays were loaded 
each day with luxurious food, such as was seldom 
to be had in Hospital. 

Soon the measle ward, containing thirty cases, 
was added to mine. A little later another, and 
still later the erysipelas ward, then the small pox 
ward — swelling the list of our patients to three 
hundred men, and severely taxing our strength to 
supply their numerous wants. 

In the midst of all these labors, and at a time 
when I could illy afford to be sick, I caught a 
terrible cold which settled in my throat, with all 
the symptoms of dj^ptheria — still I worked with 
increased energy, feeling that each day would end 
the scene for a time at least. 

My throat was burned with caustic and bathed 
with hartshorn each day, whilst in the intervals of 



■ A RAGING FEVER. 217 

the treatment I shook over the red hot stove like 
one in an ague fit. I kept at my post, loth to 
leave it till my throat was so nearly closed, that 
I could neither speak, nor swallow my food. The 
taking of water was attended with severe pain. 

Then began an excruciating pain in my side 
and back, which I sought to relieve by trying new 
positions. But all was in vain, and at last I took 
a seat close by the stove, whilst my attendant 
brought me the material with which I worked as 
I motioned for it for three days. 

On the following Sabbath, which only differed 
from other days in its being set apart for the 
regular weekly inspection, I summoned up all my 
courage, and went from ward to ward, bearing 
with all the fortitude I could muster the pains in 
my side and back. On my return I was taken 
with a severe chill, and, after issuing the rations 
for supper, heart and strength gave out together. 
I went to my room with a raging fever, threw 
myself across my bed of straw, and was unable to 
leave it for five long weeks. 



218 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

THE BED OF STRAW — DREADFUL FANCIES — PLEADING TO 
LIVE — " don't SEND ME AWAY !" — MY ATTENDANTS — TY- 
PHOID FEVER — A HELPLESS BEING — GIVEN UP TO DIE — 
THE CONTEST WITH DEATH — LIFE VICTORIOUS — ONLY ONE 
CALL — KINDLY REMEMBERED WASHING UNDER DIFFI- 
CULTIES — CHANGING SCENES — THE CAVALRY DRILL — THE 
CORRALS — THE STAMPEDE — A PROVIDENTIAL INTERPOSI- 
TION — DEAD HORSES — A PITIFUL SIGHT — WARP OF A 
ROMANCE — THE IRON MAN — LONGING FOR STRENGTH — 
AN HUMBLE HOSPITAL NURSE THE INEVITABLE SACRI- 
FICE — "on fame's. ETERNAL CAMPING GROUND" — THE 
WRECK OF REASON — FAR MORE SORROWFUL. 

My symptoms were so much like an attack 
of small-pox, that the surgeon in charge, who 
visited me in the morning to ascertain the cause 
of my non-appearance in the kitchen, pronounced 
it that awful disease. 

The thought of the dreadful place to which 
they took those stricken down with this loath- 
some pest alarmed me to no small degree. I 
began to think that if I was taken there I would 
surely die. My already tortured fancy conjured 
up visions of a death-bed, where I would be left 
unattended, where the horrors of the place would 
alone witness my last struggling breath, and from 
whence my putrid body would be hurried into a 



pleadi2;g to live, 210 

sliallow grave, to moulder beneath tlie turf of a 
strange soil. 

In ray excited condition I reasoned with myself, 
as best I could, upon what should be done, and 
upon the various contingencies that might arise in 
my particular case. I remembered how I had 
braved disease and death among others — how- 
strong my hands were, and how capable of endu- 
rance my constitution had seem.ed — and I gradu- 
ally relapsed into a somewhat composed mood. 

I lay with my clothing still on, revolving in 
my mind the possibility of being allowed to 
remain where I was; at least, I determined to 
risk being denied the privilege. When the sur- 
geon returned, I said, " Doctor, can't I stay in this 
room — do you think any of the patients would 
take the disease from me ?" He no doubt saw the 
anxiety portrayed in my countenance ; was moved 
by the pleading tone of an invalid nurse for the 
right to live; beheld a woman far from home, 
and friends, and the comforts of civilization, and, 
although so coarse in his nature, he manifested 
some generosity of heart, and replied, " You shall 
stay here, and you shall be taken care of too, if the 
d- 1 stands at the door." 

He went out immediately to make arrangements 
for my care, sending in the ward surgeon, who, 
wdiile he stood regarding my fever-flushed face, re- 
marked, " We sometimes send small-pox patients 
to the pest-house." 

The thought flashed over me that they had held 



220 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

a council upon my case in the outer room, and 
had decided that it would be exposing the whole 
ward to the dreadful disease if I was allowed to 
remain, and in my despair I cried out, " Oh ! don't 
send me away — let me stay here in my own 
room !'' 

I thought if I must die, death would be less 
terrible near those to whom I had ministered in 
their hours of pain, until they had at least passed 
out from the shadows of sickness into the light 
of health. "You shall stay," he said, adding 
that proper persons were to be detailed to take 
care of me, and I should make my mind as easy 
as possible. 

Soon after an old gentleman from the First 
Ehode Island Cavalry came to stay in the room 
and wait upon me. Others were selected to give 
me medicine regularly, prepare food, chop wood, 
build fires, and keep my room in order. Amongst 
these attendants, to whom, under God's mercy, I 
owe my life, was the commissary sergeant who 
had been my kitchen assistant. 

As my disease gradually developed itself, it was 
discovered that, instead of the dreaded small-pox, 
I had a malignant attack of typhoid fever. 
Nevertheless I had the best of nursing, and 
could not have been better cared for had I been 
surrounded with all the comforts of home. For 
Aveeks I lay too ill to realize my situation. Had 
J in those days gone down into the dark valley 
I would have been unconscious of the final 



KINDLY REMEMBERED. 221 

struggle. I was a helpless being, and with senses 
overcome I drifted along upon the swift current to 
the very brink of the stream from the waters of 
which no mortal ever returns. 

A council of the hospital surgeons said I would 
die ; no hope remained for me. They little com- 
prehended the amount of endurance my constitu- 
tion was capable of, and how, in a close contest, 
the love of life had its hidden advantages over 
death. 

Only once was I honored with a call from old 
aunty, and that at a time when I was almost be- 
wildered with pain. She never came again, urging, 
repeatedly, in extenuation of her neglect, that I 
did not treat her well when she did -call. I was 
fortunate, indeed, in not having been left to her 
tender mercies. Her morbid fear of losing her 
position of queen regnant might have .tempted her 
to let the fever do its work. 

When I began to convalesce, the patients would 
watch for my nurse, and beautiful cakes, and cans 
of fruit, and bottles of wine were proffered for my 
use. My heart ran over with gratitude at these 
kind expressions of respect, and I was almost 
thankful that even by this weary illness I had 
been taught how much kindness was in the stout 
brave hearts of our soldiers. 

As no provision existed in this hospital in regard 
to our washing, each nurse was under the necessity 
of doing her own. My clothes had been wet 
several days previous to my illness, and it was by 



222 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

dint of great exertion that I got them dry in time 
to take my bed. These clean garments were 
all I had for changes until able to wash again. 

Soon after my fever was broken I was able to 
sit up in my bed by supporting myself at the iron 
bar that crossed the head. Here I sat for hours, 
mending the stockings wdiich had accumulated in 
huge forbidding piles — plying my needle, slowly 
and uncertainly at first, till faint with fatigue, 
then relieving my eyes by looking out upon the 
flowing river, on which the swift boats were glid- 
ing. Some were going to hospitals with sick men 
on their decks, others w^ere bearing supplies, and 
still others were carrying untried soldiers to re- 
cruit up the old regiments to their standard pro- 
portions. 

At times the cavalry would dash down to the 
flat, near the hospital, to drill, and I watched the 
graceful evolutions of the noble animals while 
training for the charge of death. It was always a 
fascinatinc; si'iht to mo to see the intelliirent 
creatures learning to wheel, and charge, and I felt 
considerable regret that they, w^ith no l^nowledge 
of the causes and effects of war, were also subject 
to the death wdjich soldiers die, without a chance 
of life if wounded or disabled. 

The corrals were also in full viev/ of my win- 
dow, the long, low wooden sheds seeming to 
stretch away over half a mile in length. The 
drill ground was trampled daily by the iron hoofs 
of three thousand horses. 



A PITIFUL SIGnT. 223 

I remember, when a stcampede occiirrccl, tlio 
noise of their scampering feet, which, swift-winged 
with fright, seemed hke the sound of a hurricane's 
bhast. Our tented wards were then in operation, 
and by a providential interposition the inmates of 
one of the tents had been moved from the centre to 
an extrem.e end. As the horses swept up from 
the Potomac, their course Lay directly through 
the hospital, and they dashed straight over the 
board floor of this tent, tearing down the guy 
ropes, and rushing on, leaving some thankful 
hearts that they had providentially been saved 
from the awful death of being trampled and 
torn by tlie iron hoofs of the frantic animals. 

In crossing the river bridge, which lay in 
their path, numbers were crowded in the w\ater, 
and their dead bodies were found days after. 
Some kept on their whirlwind course, and were 
not stopped until they neared Baltim.ore. 

A slide was built on the river brink, near the 
camp ground, and down its steep the dead and 
w^orn out horses were shoved into boats, and taken 
to Y/'ashington, there to be worked up. No one 
of these animals was in any way wasted, if he 
perished away from the battle field. 

I think the most pitiful sight I ever beheld was 
that of one of these skeleton creatures lying in 
the stagnant water of a little brook, v>^hither he 
had doubtless gone to drink, and falling in was 
too exhausted to rise. As we neared him the 
instinct of human presence seemed to nerve him 



224 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

with some little vigor, for he raised his head and 
neighed imploringly — the glassy eyes even then 
glaring with death. We could not help the 
dying creature, and for days the scene haunted 
my mind. 

A house also stood within sight of my window, 
and, as I lay with wandering fancy, catching at 
every floating thread with which to arrange the 
warp of a romance, I thought of the condition of 
•the inmates of that dwelling. They were sur- 
rounded by Union soldiers j their own sons and 
brothers were in the gray ranks of the rebels; 
they were com|)elled to assume a peaceful de- 
meanor, when their very hearts were agonized 
within them. They well knew that their idols 
were marching with a half-clad, half-starved army, 
and that those, who would probably take their 
lives, surrounded them with all the pomp and 
circumstance of war. How could any one, en- 
dowed Vv'ith ordinary human instinct, fail to pity 
them. 

All eyes were now turned toward the giant 
army which centred in Virginia, and toward the 
iron man, whose taciturn and stolid features 
planned, and kept his planning to himself Sol- 
diers were eager for the fray. One, who had been 
wounded eleven times, told mo each hit from the 
" rebs " only made him the more anxious to get a 
chance at them. 

How I longed for the full strength which was 
coming to my sluggish veins gradually. Friends at 



AN HUMBLE HOSPITAL NURSE. 225 

the North, to whom my iUness had been reported, 
wrote to me, urging my .speedy return. But home 
and all its attractions paled in the liglit of niy 
duty to my countrj^, and my devotion to her 
br;ives. I could endure sickness, pain, and priva- 
tion to be allowed to assist, in the humblest way, 
the cause of universal liberty. It was for that 
that many precious ones had been slaughtered in 
conflict, a,nd even tortured in the noisome prisons 
of the '" chivalric " and " magnanimous " rebels. It 
must therefore be maintained. No rest was evi- 
dently in store for us till victory crowned our 
arms, and the cause of the conflict was wiped out 
forever. I felt myself honored in being permitted 
to bandage the wounds of the meanest private in 
the ranks. Though an humble nurse in the hos- 
pital service of the Government, I had just pa- 
triotism enough to feel mjself as proud in my posi- 
tion as a queen could be on a throne. There may 
be those who do not regard a feeling of this kind 
in a woman as proper, in view of her relation to 
man and the requirements of modesty (?) ; but 
there are also those who have an abundance of it, 
and are strong enough to lead a correct life in the 
full enjoyment of it. 

Go home ! Not while strength lasted ; not 
while cannon-smake darkened the air, and the 
hail of death rained over a trodden battle field ; 
not while the wounds of our brave fathers, hus- 
bands, and sons demanded attention ! Others 
might sit at home, regardless of our soldiers ; 

15 



226 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

or even scrape the lint, sew at hospital garments, 
and prepare luxuries for us to dispense — it was a 
noble work, but not for me. My hands were used 
to rougher toil ; they had ceased to tremble when 
hundreds of worms feasted upon the rank battle- 
wounds; they were no more timid when the 
death-damp bathed the soldier's face with its cold 
moisture. I had learned to look upon every dead 
man as a part of the inevitable sacrifice which 
was not yet finished. 

Scon I was able to move slowly about. Some 
changes had transpired during my illness ; the old 
dead-house — by which I had so often passed in the 
darkness of morning and evening hours, when the 
wild night wind blew aside the canvass, and 
corpses lay with exposed head or feet — had passed 
away, and a new one, further on among new 
wards, held its quota of stiffening forms. 

Some faces were missed, but they had fought 
the good fight, and had taken their places on 
^'^ fame's eternal camping ground." One little 
fellow, who was very ill with typhoid fever when 
I left the ward, had been treated for insects on 
his head. He was given a compound intended to 
kill them, which proved so poisonous that he lost 
his senses in a little while, and did not recover 
from his idiotic condition. 

He had been a bright boy before his sickness, 
and this total wreck of reason was a sad subject 
for contemplation. Some one mourned for him, 
though it might have been a little comfort to them 



FAR MORE SORROWFUL. 227 

to be able to care for the poor body after the 
soul within was a wreck. These cases always pro- 
duced far more sorrowful feelings among us than 
the sorest wounded ones around us. It seemed as 
if carelessness and malpractice had a hold upon 
army life that no effort of the Government could 
throw off. Unskillfulness, at times, among army 
surgeons seemed among the 

" Thino;s that are not to be remedied." 



228 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 



CHAPTER XX. 

A VISIT — A EEPRIMAND THE SANITARY HOME — SENT FOR 

A FULL BASKET — THE SUSPICIOUS NURSE — MRS. GEORGE 

SUNNY WEATHER — THE DOOR BARRED — HOMESICK AND 

DESPONDING — MOAN5NG FOR HOME — " OH ! MOTHER, MY 
MOTHER, WHY DON't YOU COME?" — SERVED THREE YEARS — 
DEAD — " it's no FAULT OF MINE, IF I AM " — NO MEDICINE 
FOR EYES — A DARKENED EARTH — THE SUFFERING FAMILY 
— A FAIR YOUNG FACE — " THINE IS THE GLORY !" — THE 

ETERNAL REST NEITHER BRUISE NOR WOUND PLAYING 

OFF — COWARDLY MEN — A HARD NECESSITY — THE NIGHT 
GUARD — THE GHOSTLY PRESENCE — STUMBLING OVER THE 
DEAD. 

I WAS sitting one day musing upon current 
events, and anxiously glancing, at times, into the 
future, when Miss Dix abruptly entered my room, 
and, in surprise, exclaimed, " Why, Miss Bucklin, 
have you been sick, and not had it reported to 
me ? I have hunted the whole hospital over for 
you ; don't you need something — a dressing-gown, 
wine, or some other food for your comfort?" 
adding a reprimand that she had not been noti- 
fied, so that she might have sent a woman nurse 
to my assistance. 

I replied, by way of excuse, that my disease 
had been at first pronounced small-pox, that I 
felt unwilling to subject any one to the danger 



A FULL BASKET. 229 

of the contagion, and that I so soon after became 
unconscious that it mattered little who took care 
of me. 

As she left me, she said, "I will send my 
carriage for you as soon as you are able to be 
movedj and you can go to the Sanitary Home to 
recruit." I had previously received an invitation 
from Dr. Caldwell and his amiable wife to come to 
them as soon as able to travel. 

One cold raw April day Miss Dix's carriage was 
sent over, with her housekeeper in charge, to 
assist me in making preparations for the journey, 
and with two nurses to take charge of my ward ; 
but the surgeon thought the day unfavorable for 
me to go out, and would not allow me to under- 
take the journey, promising, however, that as soon 
as the weather became pleasant and I was able, 
he would send me over himself. 

A few days later, I went — enjoying to the 
fullest extent the hospitality of that luxurious 
home — blessing in my heart the noble movers in 
the great Sanitary scheme which provided such a 
retreat for sick and worn out nurses. I shall for- 
ever hold Dr. Caldwell and his lovely wife in 
kindly remembrance for the hospitality extended 
to me during that brief but pleasant week. 

At the end of this time, they sent fbr m^ from 
the hospital, with the word that !■ was not so 
much needed for work, but they missed me, and 
if I was willing I had better return. 

I found the stocking-baske;fe- full to ^overflowing 



230 IN IIOSPITxiL AND CAMP. 

again — tliree liimdrecl pairs, with gaping heels 
and open toes, A vroman had been sent to the 
hospital some time previous, and been directed to 
nie for employment, but as I had nothing for her 
to do except mending, I proposed that to her, 
when she silenced my interest in her, T/ith the petu- 
lant, " I didn't corne to the hospital to mend 
stockings." Of course, I left her to walk in her 
own path. And this she did by taking nominal 
charge of the linen room — the clothes of which 
returned to the wards in the same condition in 
which they were sent out. But as a certain 
official was exceedingly friendly to her cause, we 
drew our own conclusions in regard to her, and 
kept aloof from her society. 

Several of the wives of hospital surgeons were 
here, and, soon after my return from Washington, 
the wife of Dr. George and I became fast 
friends. 

Her husband had been prostrated with an at- 
tack of erysipelas, and had sent for her to come 
on and take care of him throuerh his sufferinors. 

Mrs. George assisted me materially in diminish- 
ing the contents of the stocking-basket. 

Soon, in the sunny weather, when dainty fringes 
of grass began to peep up along the untraraplcd 
nooks, and delicate flowers lifted their tiny forms 
over the water's edge, I began to venture about, 
and into the wards once more. But the kitchen 
was barred against me. I had overtasked myself 
in it, the doctor said, and I should not go into it 



"why don't you come." 231 

again, I was more -willing to forego the labor, 
because I knew tlie men were well cared for in 
every article of food and luxury of which their 
progress in convalescence would enable them to 
partake. 

A young man was transferred to my ward, 
about this time, who had passed a surgical exami- 
nation, and entered the service, with one leg 
several inches shorter than the other, and a fever- 
sore which reached from his knee to his ankle. 
He had passed the entire winter and spring in the 
hospital — homesick and despondent — sighing for 
friends, and the far away home. While he was 
anticipating a furlough, and the arrival of his 
brother to accompany him North, he took the 
measles, and was prostrated upon his bed. 

I sought to comfort him with every conceivable 
word of encouragement. I told him the measles 
was not a dangerous disease — I had lately passed 
througli it, and doubtless he would be able to go 
home when his furlough and his brother arrived. 
But no such comfort could reach his sad soul. 
Homesickness became seated, and he died, moan- 
incr for his home and his mother. 

Another bright boy, of only sixteen summers, 
lay very ill in the ward, calling in piteous tones 
for his mother — repeating the dear name louder, 
and louder, ofttimes shrieking out, " Oh ! mother, 
my mother, why don't you come," till the lamp of 
life went out in wild and feverish flickering. 
They buried him under Virginia sod, and the 



232 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

mother, doubtless, never learned how her boy 
agonized for her presence — how his fond heart 
pictured her image before him at moments, and 
then, almost broken at the recollection of her 
absence, gave vent to its despair in shrieks of her 
loved name. 

Another, a massive framed man, was brought in 
suffering from an attack of pneumonia. He said 
to me, "I have served Uncle Sam now almost 
three years, and by the time I am well again my 
term will be out. I have written to my wife — she 
will be expecting me — and the three little babies, 
how I long to see them." 

Two days later be lay in the dead-house, his 
stomach having been taken out, examined, and 
replaced, and his body gotten in readiness for 
burial. 

Another, with the- same almost fatal disease, lay 
near him, and for three successive mornings I ex- 
pected to find his empty bed standing outside the 
ward — but I was happily disappointed each time. 
I stepped to his side one morning after, and he 
looked up with auch a bright expression, that I 
said, involuntarily, 

" You are- much better this- morning." 

"I guess not/' he replied. 

"I think you are>" I insisted. 

'"It is no fault of mine, if I am," he answered. 

He was soon able to walk about the ward, and 
rapidly recovered. 

A. case, calling forth the greatest commiseration. 






THE SUFFERING FAMILY. 233 

existed in our hospital in the person of a blind 
soldier. His eyes had been injured by the ex- 
plosion of powder, and he had lain for months 
without the treatment so necessary to restore his 
vision. At last, in his wretched condition, he 
was brought under our care, and when we asked 
for remedies with which to attempt relief, the 
attendant was told by the surgeon in charge that 
they provided no medicine for eyes. He therefore 
lingered along till confirmed blindness settled upon 
him — till the earth became a darkened place to 
him in which to grope along until the light of the 
eternal world should open up to his new sight. 

He was poor, and no one saw fit to interest 
themselves in his case. A furlough had been 
promised, but it never came ; but, Avorse still, by 
and by letters were received with a tale of 
wretchedness on their pages that made stout 
men brush the tears from their eyes. His wife, 
and her eight little ones had been turned out of 
their poor shelter, because unable to pay the 
small pittance extorted for their mean dwelling ; 
and, with the helpless brood on her hands, the 
mother was unable to earn her own livelihood, 
much less the food for so many hungry mouths. 

For eight months his pay had been withheld, for 
want of his descriptive list, while those, having 
the authority to find and present it, neglected the 
duty, and the helpless family was thrown upon 
the cold charities of a selfish community. It was 
hard to tell him these things, lying prostrate and 



234 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

helpless on his iron bedstead ; but the letter from 
home must be read, and the truth, hard as it 
was, must bo revealed. 

The steward came to me one day, saying, " No. 
— was rapidly declining, and he thought he could 
hardly last six hours! He wished I would go to 
him, and see what could be done to comfort 
him. 

I went immediately, finding a youth of about 
eighteen 3^ears, lying with a pained look upon his 
fair young face, and an uneasy wandering of the 
restless eyes. I talked with him of his future 
prospects, and asked him if he had any hope be- 
yond this life. 

" Oh ! I fear it will not be all right with me in 
the future," he said. "I have been a hard boy 
since I left the home of my parents ; my mother 
gave me good advice when I left her, and gave 
' iier wayward boy ' the last kiss. I was brought 
up under religious influences, my father and 
mother being both professed Christians — but I 
slighted the offers of mercy, and grew reckless 
and hardened in sin." 

I told him there was yet hope; that the 
Saviour died for the worst of sinners, and if he 
repented and believed, he would yet be saved. 

He said, " Will you send for the chaplain ?" 

This I did, and when he came he talked and 
prayed with him earnestly. I sat by his bed- 
side long after, as he lay in silent thought, until 
he said to me, 



COWARDLY MEN. 235 

^'I like to see you sitting there; it seems so 
much as if I was home again." 

He lay, for a little while after that, repeating a 
prayer — the calm expression on his face indicat- 
ing that his petition was answered, and that a 
genuine hope was newly born in his soul. While 
saying faintly the words, " Thine is the glory !" 
the last sigh fluttered forth, and another spirit 
had entered upon a new life. 

One pleasant moonlight Sabbath evening we 
were enjoying religious services in the steward's 
office, vv'hen a man was brought in, Y,dio was re- 
ported to have been hurt by his horse falling upon 
him, and to all appearance he was in great agon}-. 
He groaned at every moment, and the whole ward 
was in excitement over his apparent dist]»ess. 
The surgeon was sent for, and an examination 
made, which revealed neither bruise nor wound. 

He was left till the second day, with the 
possibility of his injuries being internal, when 
another examination was ordered, and the man 
pronounced an impostor, and ordered to be sent to 
his regiment. His bundle was brought — for, on 
the entrance of a siclt or wounded man into a 
hospital, his uniform is taken off, and nicely 
made up into a. bundle, with his haversack, can- 
teen, and blanket, and whatever effects he may 
have, and given in charge of a man whose 
especial business it is to receive and give out 
these bundles — he was dressed in his own uniform, 
and amidst the groans of all the convalescents able 



236 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

to follow him out into camp, he was guarded to 
his regiment. 

It appeared that they had been ordered to the 
front, and the anticipation of the thunder of the 
cannon, the deadly charges upon the enemy, and 
the onslaught of cavalry amid the storms of shot 
and shell, so worked upon his weak nerves, that 
he was willing to feign any distress to remain 
safely within the walls of a hospital. 

Another, who complained bitterly each morn- 
ing as the doctor came to his side, was told that 
he was a well, able-bodied man, fit for any duty, 
and not suffering from a single complaint he had 
urged. " If you had the disease you speak of, I 
could discover the fact across the ward," the doctor 
said, and added, " this hospital is for sick and 
wounded, and not for well men. No man would 
assist the soldier quicker than I, but I will not 
help 3'ou to shirk your duty. I shall assign 3-ou 
to the night watch." 

He was a kind, faithful fellow in his new posi- 
tion, but his heart shrunk from the horrors of the 
coming campaign. Cowards seemed to have a 
thousand deaths to die, and the utmost contempt 
existed for them. No doubt pride kept many a 
quaking heart in the front ranks, when the 
natural impulse was to turn, and flee from the 
deadly peril. 

Men were shot for desertion whose minds had 
become half-crazed with cowardice, until they 
looked with feelings of horror on the possibility of 



THE GHOSTLY PRESENCE. 237 

being drawn into battle, and risked all, and lost, 
in an attempt to evade the duty for which they 
had volunteered. Men, who were kindly of 
heart and generous of soul, were tempted in their 
weak moments, and their names forever after 
were stamped with disgrace. Though it seemed a 
hard necessity, the death penalty was essential to 
the establishment of proper discipline. If war 
must be waged, life must be sacrificed at times 
durins; the hush between conflicts. Had the first 
deserters met with their fate, hundreds might 
have been deterred from following their example ; 
but, with a lenient Executive, loth to take life, 
pardon followed pardon until the cov/ards who 
slunk away, in hope of like reprieve, were retaken 
and shot upon their open coffins. 

One of our night guards at the hospital showed 
even greater fear of apparitions than of living 
enemies. He w^as detailed at the dead-house, in 
the front and rear of which the wards ranged, 
and whence, a man coming out one night, dressed 
only in shirt and drawers, in the reflection of the 
light shining through the canvas, seemed to stalk 
out of the dead-house. 

Tlie man saw the white, ghostly dress — his 
limbs shook with terror — the blood seemed to 
freeze in his veins, and throwing down his gun, 
he ran away, screaming at every step. No per- 
suasion could ever after prevail on him to do 
guard duty at the hospit:al dead-house. 

He was willing to go to the front, where, no 



238 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

doubt, he grew hardened to scenes of battle in the 
commg campaign ; but the sight of dead men had 
no terror so effectual as the sight of the fancied 
ghost. 

Experience usually hardens us to scenes of this 
kind. I myself have passed in the darkness so 
near the dead-house, as I walked to and from the 
wards to the quarters, that I have stumbled over 
tliG protruding feet with little, or no fear. Our 
situation even begot a remarkable recklessness, 
among some, to such accidents. Once, I would 
have been shocked almost beyond recovery over 
our occasional mishaps; now, they were almost 
forgotten after the moment of their dccurrence. 



THE BLIGHT OF WAR. 239 



CHAPTEPv XXI. 

NO BLOSSOMS — THE BLIGHT OF WAR — GEOEGE BOLIErv— 
THE WIFE — TEMPTED BY THE FIEND — INDIGNANT SCORN 
— RETURNING HOME — " IF YOU WERE A MAN " — THE 
TIGER ROUSED — ONE WAY OF ESCAPE — FOR DUTY ELSE- 
WHERE — THE FAREWELL VISIT — SILENT PARTING — THE 

RETURN OF MRS. EOLIER — " SHE CAN HAVE HIM NOW " 

BROKEN-HEARTED — LEAVING CAMP STONEMAN — THE PUR- 
CEASE — THE FEAT OF MILLINERY — THE EARLY WALK — 
WAITING FOR THE BOAT — AN EMPTY STOMACH — GETTING 
DINNER — THE JOURNEY — A CROWDED CABIN — ONE WAY 
OF RELIEF — MAKING A LANDING. 

Spring, with its soft skies and dropping showers, 
and with golden sunlight warming the distant hills 
iiito verdure, had not yet opened the blossoms in 
the peach orchard, where our hospital had been 
located for long and weary months. As if vv'orms 
had gnawed at the roots, and sapped their sub- 
stance, the trees died from the steady tramp of 
feet about them — except, in a few isolated in- 
stances, where sickly-looking boughs peeped forth 
in a few tufts of straggling leaves, ere giving up 
in despair. Even the delicate tints, which hung 
low like mists along the river's brink, to which the 
dead roots of the trees still clung, did not make 
their appearance. Evidently the blight of war 
had overtaken that lovely hill-side, and I could 



2d0 IN nOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

but turn, with a sigh, from a contemplation of the 
scene in the direction of my duties. 

During my illness, a soldier, from Syracuse, 
New York, named George Bolier, was brought in, 
slowly dying of consumption. His wife was sent 
for, at his request, when it was made known to 
him that he had but few more days to live. She 
came, leaving two sick children at home, hoping 
by her presence to cheer her dying husband as he 
entered the dark valley, and with her heart nigh 
broken by this accumulation of sorrows. She saw 
him, and remained by his side for days, comfort- 
ing and soothing him, Avhen a fiendish spirit 
tempted the surgeon in charge to insult her with 
infamous proposals. 

She turned upon him with the most scornful 
indignation, as he told her that her husband 
should be sent home on furlough, and herself al- 
lowed the freedom of the hospital, and nobly said, 
*' If my husband dies, he shall go knowing that I 
am true to him." 

She was forbidden to enter the ward; every 
annoyance was put within her pathway, and the 
poor creature, torn with suspense for her children, 
and distracted with sorrow for her dying husband, 
had no resort but to return home and suffer on. 
Unaccustomed to journeying alone, she had em- 
ployed a neighbor to come to Washington with 
her, but the man having an opportunity to 
get Government employment, had concluded to 
do so, and she became quite nervous with fear. 



THE TIGER ROUSED. 241 

I took the stage for Washington with her — 
bought her a ticket, checked her baggage through, 
and saw her comfortably on her way home. By 
some chance the surgeon learned that I had been 
absent, whereupon he questioned me in regard to 
alleged disobedience of orders. " If you were a 
man I would put you in the guard-house," he said, 
in a suppressed passion. I replied that he could 
do so as it vv^as, if he saw fit, but I rather thought 
he would stand in some danger of losing his other 
eye (he had lost one), for I had some friends at 
Camp Stoneman yet — friends, who were well 
aware of the disgraceful proceedings which had 
lately been enacted, and who were eager for the 
oj}port unity this would afford. 

The tiger was roused in the man — the brute 
passions were in the ascendent, and, although he 
had hitherto been kind and considerate to me, 
I feared him almost as much as an enraged beast. 
No opening for escape remained only to see Miss 
Dix without delay, report the case to her, and 
obtain my relief. 

I took the stage again, which ran to Washing- 
ton hourly, and was soon with the superintend- 
ent, to whom I related the whole story. I remem- 
bered her friendly caution to me on being assigned 
to Camp Stoneman ; I remembered the suspicious 
woman, who had no duties to perform in the hospi- 
tal, and then everything was revealed to me in 
true colors. The monster had been enraged at me 
for aiding Mrs. Bolier in her escape from the hospi- 



242 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

tal — there would be no safety for me, either, only 
in hurried flight. 

Miss Dix said, " Go back immediately ; do not 
let him know you have been absent again, and I 
will arrange the matter to your satisfaction." I 
effected my entrance into camp without his know- 
ledge, and resumed my labors as usual on tlie fol- 
lowing morning. 

Miss Dix had sent a woman nurse to this hospi- 
tal at the time of my partial recovery from the 
fever, who still remained, and quartered with me. 
She was with Mrs. George while I was absent. 
Soon the usual mail came along, and brought 
orders to us from Miss Dix, directing the Misses 
Bucls:lin and Ballard to report to her for duty else- 
where ; also, a circular, stating that no woman 
nurse would be paid in that hospital after the first 
day of June, It was then the thirtieth of May. 
A storm of excitement swept • through the wards, 
as it was whispered about from patient to patient. 
Soon a note came, inviting us to the old brown 
house for a farewell visit. Yle found the room 
occupied by a few fast friends, and an elegant 
repast of cake and fruit, which had been ordered 
from Y/ashington for the occasion, was served. 

Yle passed the swiftly-flying hours in social con- 
verse, speaking lightly of past sorrows, and hope- 
fully of the days in the future. The uncertainty 
of a soldier's fate hung over our parting with some 
of these noble men; we knew the battle and the 
chance of rebel prisons lay before them, and we 



liilli' 




•ft... 






i' 







BROKEN-HEARTED. 243 

took iLe proffered hands with considerable sad- 
ness. No other meeting remained for us on earth 
with some of those brave fellows. 

George Bolier was failing rapidly, and a dis- 
patc;h was sent to his wife, praying for her imme- 
diale return. He plead with me to remain until 
she should arrive, but my orders were positive ; I 
could only promise to obtain the consent of Mrs. 
George to remain by him until she came. 

But the worn-out body gave up the spirit while 
she was speeding on her way to the hospital 
hoping to stand beside him when the last struggle 
should come. The surgeon was beside him when 
he died, and when no sign of life remained, said, 
heartlessly, " She can have him now." 

Was there no compunction in his narrow soul 
for the terrible offence he had committed? for the 
scrrow he had heaped upon the stricken widow, 
who journeyed twice over the long route, only to 
take home, at the last, the emaciated clay, without 
even one parting word to reconcile her to the 
almost insupportable loss ? Her grief was heart- 
rending, and every one experienced a sense of 
mortification ut the conduct of the brute, whose 
beastliness sought to stand between her and the 
death-bed of him she loved. She returned broken- 
hearted to the little ones who, still weak with 
their illness, waited for her coming. It was 
a little satisfaction, afterwards, to learn that the 
surgeon was safe in the old Capital Prison, with 
several charges preferred against him. He was 



244 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

court-mcartialed, his pay withheld, and himself 
disGfraced and dismissed from the service. 

On the last day of May we were called for by 
Miss Dix, and left Camp Stoneman for duty else- 
where. Our trunks were conveyed up to Wash- 
ington in an ambulance belonging to the hospital, 
after the contents had been overhauled, by the 
surgeon in charge, to see that we took nothing 
away that did not belong to us. 

We arrived in Washington about ten o'clock, 
and, as Miss Dix kindly offered to provide each of 
us with a shaker. Miss Ballard and myself, accom- 
panied by a Miss Vance, who was also going to 
the front on the following morning, took a pleasant 
stroll down the avenue, and made the purchase, pay- 
ing the uniform price of one dollar apiece for cape 
and shakers. Then Miss Ballard and myself re- 
turned to Miss Dix's to select two changes from 
our trunks, and pack them into satchels, no other 
baggage being allowed us — Miss Vance going to 
the hospital, where her trunk had been left. 

Our passes, transportation and orders having 
been received, I took the street cars for George- 
town, where I was to remain at the Seminary 
Hospital for the night, and report to the superin- 
tendent very early in the morning. I was still 
weak, and the day's fatigue had so debilitated me 
that I was unfit to remain, for any time, even in a 
sitting posture — but, my shaker remaining to be 
trimmed, I sat up a part of the night to accom- 
plish that extraordinary feat of millinery. 



GETTING DINNER. 245 

Upon finishing my task, I laid down upon the 
hard floor for a few of the hours intervening till 
dawn — after which I took my way through the 
streets long before the sun shone over the Capital. 
Being too early for the cars, I was obliged to wend 
my way on foot for the distance of two miles. 
Without food, and still unrefreshed since yester- 
day's fatigue, I arrived at the house, and found 
my fellow-travellers partaking of a hurried break- 
fast. They were just on the point of starting 
for Sixth Street wharf, whither I accompanied 
them to take the boat for White House Land- 
ing. 

We sat in the broiling sun till about ten 
o'clock, when the boat started, and again delayed 
at Alexandria, where we sat in a coal office till I 
thought I should perish with hunger. I was not 
allowed to touch the lunch which had been put 
up for our use on board the boat. Finally, 
feeling the sickness of an empty stomach coming 
upon me, and my head throbbing with pain, I 
besought Miss Ballard to go to a hotel with me 
and call for dinner. We waited in extreme 
distress till it was cooked, fearing the boat would 
leave us, and still unwilling to go on without 
something to sustain nature in the tedious 
journey before us. 

We succeeded in getting on board just as the 
boat pushed out into the river, where it again lay 
until morning, crowded to its fullest capacity. 
Upper and lower decks were packed with soldiers 



246 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

going to the front to fill the ranks which had 
been decimated by the late battles. The cabin 
was filled with officers, several of w^hom vacated 
sofas — one of which each of us occupied during 
the night after rolling them closely together. 

Two other women — one a State agent and the 
other in the employ of the Sanitary Commission, 
the latter from Williamsburg, New York — made 
them each a bed close together on the floor, while 
the officers lay around like sheep in a packed 
fold. Many persons were ill, and the suffocating 
atmosphere increased the distress until the suf- 
fering was general. " 

Mrs. Lyon, the New York State agent, devised 
a method of relief, having the assistance of a 
gentleman from one of the Eastern States, who, 
leaving his pressing business cares, had volunteered 
to spend a few weeks in helping the work of 
mercy. And we cannot but remark that it was 
pressing enough, even here, among the dense 
numbers who were lounging and moving slowly 
around us. Hot water was brought from the 
cabin kitchen in a wash-bowl pitcher, and Mrs. 
Lyons dropped dry tea into it, which, after 
standing a sufficient length of time, gave out 
its aroma *to the no little relief of the suffering 
crew. 

By the time this relief came, it was too late for 
me, as my sickness had reached its culminating 
point, and no medicine but sleep could restore 
me. I could not sit up, as every available space 



MAKING A LANDING. 247 

on the floor was literally covered with men in the 
army blue. 

On the afternoon of the third day we reached 
the White House, on the Pamunky river. It had 
been the home of Gen. Fitz Hugh Lee, son of the 
rebel commander, and under its roof Gen. AYash- 
ington was married — therefore much interest was 
associated with it in my mind. All that re- 
mained of it now were two stacks of blackened 
chimneys, and a row of negro huts made of 
hewn logs, standing on the brink of the river. 
The narrow river, with its ragged banks, was 
somewhat like a city harbor, being filled with 
boats of every description. It was necessary in 
making a landing to lay planks from one boat to 
another — and over these we walked, to the extent 
of half the width of the river, to the thronged 
shore. 



248 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

WHITE HOUSE LANDING — EARTHED ALIVE — ARMY SUP- 
PLIES — STRANGE CONFUSION — " BRESS DE LORD, WE 13 

FREE !" MRS. FOGG's AMBULANCE — REPORTING FOR DUTY 

CHILLY PROSPECT GETTING THE BLANKETS — NO SUP- 
PER — ON THE BARE GROUND — PICKET FIRING — MORN- 
ING AT LAST — ASKING FOR FOOD — "NOT ONE MOUTHFUL" 
— A NOBLE WOMAN — NOT IN VAIN — GOOD SOFT BREAD — 
MRS. BEAINARD — THE ARMFUL OF BREAD — LOVELY JUNE 
DAYS — MAKING BEADY — MY COUNTRY'S SOLDIEK — AWFUL 
SIGHTS — ^FOUR DYING MEN. 

The sight which presented itself baffles every 
effort at correct description. On the ground men 
and mules lay together asleep — the mules still in 
the harness, lying forward on their knees — the 
soldiers with their trusty guns beside them. 
They had been walked over, till the dust half- 
covered them ; some so deeply that their heads 
only were visible, and they crawled up upon the 
legs of the animals to keep from being earthed 
alive. 

The huge army wagons, still attached to the 
creatures, were loaded with all manner of sup- 
plies, and underneath and about them many lay 
sleeping amid the noise and confusion — so weary 
that their repose was unbroken. 

Between five and six hundred contrabands — old^ 



MRS. fogg's ambulance. 249 

young, male and female — the halt, the lame, the 
blind — cannon, cattle, prisoners of war, and squads 
of soldiers added to the strangeness of the scene. 
Some were running with tents, others with the 
pole ; some with a box of crackers, others with 
a piece of pork ; some gathering sticks for a fire, 
others boiling their coffee — and each intent on his 
own peculiar errand. 

The miserable contrabands were huddled in 
heaps, yet, grinning with looks of astonishment — 
now and then, as we passed, giving utterance to 
expressions like this, "Laws, missus, we never 
'spected to see white wimmen from de Norf !" — 
^•' Bress de Lord, we is free !" 

Mr. Shafer, the gentleman who had come on 
from Washington in our company, tried vainly 
for two hours to procure a conveyance to take us 
.nurses up to the hospital ground, which lay a 
mile and a half av^^ay. Each one was for him- 
self, and cared little for those less fortunate. 
Everything was strongly guarded, in fear of lurk- 
ing rebels, as \yhite House was in the rear of 
Coal Harbor, where a battle had been fought only 
a day or two previous. 

Mr. Shafer eventually succeeded in- obtaining 
conveyance for our baggage in Mrs. Fogg's ambu- 
lance, which followed the army with hospital sup- 
plies, whenever it was possible, and she was here 
before us. We were thus relieved of the satchels, 
which seemed to grow heavier every moment. 
We walked on in rear of the ambulance, reaching 



250 IN HOSPITAL AND CAxMP. 

the ground to find only one small tent put up, and 
that occupied by Dr. Burmeister, the surgeon in 
charge of the Second Corps' hospital. It was a 
wide, grassy plain — not a tree or fence to break 
the monotony, and, as yet, not a wounded man in 
si<2fht. 

o 

We reported to the surgeon for duty, and he 
said, if possible, a tent should be put up for us — so 
we sat down on the grass till the sun was sink- 
ing low in the West, and the chill of evening upon 
us. A night in the open air, without even a 
blanket to cover us, seemed inevitable. When I 
had settled it thus in my mind, and nerved my- 
self to endure it with all the fortitude in my soul, 
I saw the welcome face' of one of our stewards, 
whom I had known at Camp Stoneman. Never 
was a faithful friend greeted with greater joy. 
After learning of our forlorn condition, he said, "^ I 
am going down to the landing, and, if I can get 
them by any means, I will bring each of you a 
blanket." 

Before the sun's last rays streaked up into the 
darkening sky we had a tent erected, and, shiver- 
ing with cold, although in the month of June, we 
were glad to crawl under its white wings, and try 
to sleep. Presently we heard a scratch on the 
canvas (which answers to a rap on a civilized 
house-door), and, following it, came a blanket for 
each of us, from generous hands. 

We were without supper — the supplies not 
having arrived yet — and tired, cold, and hungry, 



"not one mouthful." 251 

(my sick stomach for several days refusing any 
nourishment save a cup of tea,) we rolled ourselves 
up in our new, clean blankets, and, with our 
satchels under our .heads, lay down to rest on the 
bare ground. I had lain on the uncovered slats 
of a Government bedstead, on straw, on husks, on 
shavings, and on the bare floor, but never before 
on the ground, which was chilly with the heavy 
fall of dew. 

Rebels were on every hand ; we knew not at 
what moment they might dash down through our 
pickets, on whom we distinctly heard them firing 
at intervals. Sleep refused to refresh us, only now 
and then a drowsy unconsciousness would steal 
over our senses, to be startled by the rapid shots 
again. At length the morning rolled away the 
misty curtain that hung around us, and I looked 
out to see the trodden grass glittering in tlie first 
rays of sunlight. *--t^;^^^i^^.-^-- ^,.^.*«s^^;| 

Chilled to the vitals, we gathered' together for 
consultation in regard to some means of obtaanino- 
provisions, with which to break our long fast. 
Mrs. Jenkins, of the Sanitary Commission^ said, 
she would go to their supplies, which had- arrived: 
during the night, and procure something for us to 
eat. They had a huge caldron of coffee already 
made, and she asked for coffee and crackers for 
five. The agent in charge said, "Not one mouth- 
ful shall a woman nurse have from this Commis- 
sion." She returned indignant at the heartless 
treatment, and we sat down o^^ t]iQ ground;^ faint 



252 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

witli the hunger which gnawed us, trying to con- 
sider what we should do, as we felt ourselves to be 
almost in a starving condition. 

We knew we must have relief soon, or we 
should be rendered unfit for the duty which had 
brought us hither, and it was uncertain how 
long Ave must wait for government supplies. Pres- 
ently, in the stillness of the bright morning, I 
heard the sound of a hammer, and looking out 
across a little creek, which ran babbling through 
the tall, dewy grass, I saw another tent going up, 
and the familiar face of one of God's noble women, 
Mrs. Brainard, Michigan State agent, appeared 
very close by it. I had known her at Gettys- 
burg, jind knew that w^e would not apply to her 
for relief in vain. She had been followed every- 
where by the blessings of thousands, who had ap- 
preciated the kindness of her heart, as she dis- 
pensed, with a generous discretion, the comforts 
and luxuries which had been entrusted to her 
care, acting in concert with the Christian Com- 
mission. 

I called upon her and stated our failure to ob- 
tain food from the Sanitary Commission. She said, 
" Our table is spread, and the delegates are now 
breakfasting — come in, and partake of what we 
have." And it seemed a feast as she named over 
good soft bread and butter, raw ham, and plenty 
of tea and coifee. " You are welcome to eat here 
until 3-our supplies come," she added, as I departed 
with the glad tidings to my tent-mates. 



MAKING READTr 253 

Our morning meal was somewhat moistened 
with the briny tear-drops, which would fall silently 
in spite of our efforts to repress them. Our hearts 
were brimming with gratitude to the noble-hearted 
woman, who went busily about the tent, uncon- 
scious how royal she appeared to us in her soul. 
\Ye were supplied with our meals from Mrs. 
Brainard's tent until our supplies came in — -which 
was not for two or three days. We- were then 
entitled to back rations, and I drew mine — taking, 
the bread to the generous State agent. I found': 
them at the dinner-table,, about twenty of the 
soldiers messing with thenL. As I entered, my 
arms loaded with the staff of life,. Mrs.. Brainiirdl 
exclaimed, " The Lord bless you for thisr— w^ 
haven't bread enough to finish; cmr dIini5^rs--« 
nothing could come more opportunely V -^^ 

We were waiting for our work ^' 
bright and warm June ^c^'i* ^' -uring those 

shone tenderly upon t)^-* " - "^i^n the genial sun 
of which s@ej^' ' - ^^^ S^^^s — the little root? 

meat *' , -^"^"^ *^ ^® affording ample ncmish^-'^ 
,* ' .0 the graceful leaves. The days HV^re 
warm— at times, quite so— while ihe^n^hts wre 
cold and raw. The transition from sultry, after- 
noon^ to nights of November, chilliness was so 
rapid that we could^ scarcely, realize it. We suf- 
fered from tha heat- a^d, Cold alternately through 
the twenty-four hours. :: ;, o 

A Government kitchen was going up^ a dis- 
pensary was being erected, and the medicines 
arranged in their proper places ; the commissary 



254 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

was getting tlie hospital supplies ready for use ; 
boxes of bandages were opened, and the hurry of 
preparation was on every hand. Tents were 
being spread, and the ambulances came upon the 
field with their ghastly, bloody freight — unloading 
them, dying and .groaning under the sun — the 
small number of tents being entirely insufficient 
to shelter the constantly arriving throngs. 

I came across Surgeon Welch, whom I had 
known at Gettysburg, and he was quite anxious 
to obtain my services amongst the wounded under 
his charge ; but I had reported, and was ordered 
elsewhere, and, as it was all in the line of duty, it 
was a small matter to me whether the boys in blue, 
over whom I bent, wore the clover leaf, the shield, 
or the cross. All were my country's soldiers, and 
I had no choice amongst the brave fellows. 

Equipped for labor, with a box of bandages, a 
box of lint, adiiesive plaster, sponge, shears, and 
chloroform, we went out to begin our labor of 
mercy, and found them lying in every imaginable 
position on the bare ground. Men were in attend- 
ance to bring us the water, with which to wash 
the gore from the lacerated bodies. We worked 
under the scorching sun from early morn till late 
at night, the ambulances still bringing them in 
steadily. 

I never beheld any worse sights than here met 
my gaze on every hand. I had seen as distressing 
wounds, but the awful circumstances which height- 
ened the distress of the wretched, dying men, had 



FOUR DYING MEN. 255 

never been more glaringly presented to my sight 
before. 

Men lay all around me, who had been left for 
days on the battle ground, wet with the dews of 
night, disfigured with powder and dirt, with blood 
oozing from flieir torn flesh, and worms literally 
covering the festering w^ounds — dying with thirst, 
starving for food, unable to attend to nature's 
wants, groaning in delirious fever, praying to die, 
to be rid of the intense pain which racked the 
poor body. 

Such dreadful suffering I hope never to witness 
again. Tlie field was one vast plain of intense 
mortal agony, tortured by the sun, and chilled by 
the night dews, which fell upon them, causing 
more terror than death itself Everywhere were 
groans and cries for help ; every wdiere were the 
pleading and glassy eyes of dying men who were 
speechless in the delirium of death. It was a 
scene to appall the stoutest hearts, but the excite- 
ment nerved us to shut our senses to everything 
but the task of relieving them as fast as possible. 
The dead lay by the living ; the dying groaned by 
the dead, and still one hundred ambulances poured 
the awful tide in upon us. 

We had four soldiers brought up, and laid under 
the guy ropes of our tent, spreading blankets over 
them to afford the necessary protection from sun 
and dew, and all through the night we heard their 
groaning, and arose, at intervals, to minister to 
their wants. But it was little that any human 



256 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

hand could do for them, and by the dawn of the 
chilly and misty morning two were sleeping 
calmly, never more to awaken to trial and suf- 
fering — never more to smile upon the distant, 
anxious loved ones. The remaining two were 
also dying. I lifted a corner of t!fe blanket, and 
looked in upon them, standing aside for a moment 
to allow an officer, under whose command they 
had been, to speak to them. The glassy glare of 
death was in the fixed eyes of one, who gasped 
but a few moments longer. The last one died ere 
the shadow of the tent had fallen toward the east 
— and the nook was empty. 



PRECIOUS MOMENTS. 257 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

PRECIOUS MOMENTS — THE NEW YORK STATE AGENT — SCANTY 
SUPPLIES — SOMETHING TO EAT — THE DREAM OF PLENTY — 
BAKED PORK AND BEANS — GETTING SOME FOOD — MAK- 
ING BISCUIT — " DO GIVE ME SOME !" — THE ONE-ARMED SOL- 
DIER — ROBBING A DISABLED MAN— OFF ON THE TRANS- 
PORTS — JOURNEY OF TORMENT — ABLE-BODIED SOLDIERS 
TO THE FRONT — REBEL PRISONERS THE AGED CONTRA- 
BAND — " WE won't shoot YANKEES ANY MORE " — THE 
DYING BOY — ALONE TO DIE — TEARING UP THE PLANT — 
RIPE FOR THE REAPER — A FEAST OF BEAUTY — WOUNDED 
UNTO DEATH — REPROACHES — PURGEI> OF SELFISHNESS — 
DAY AND NIGHT. 

We soon had our quarters arranged quite com- 
fortably. A stove, bedsteads, straw-ticks, with one 
blanket, and a table made by driving sticks into 
the ground and laying boards upon them, com- 
pleted the inventory of our tent furniture. We 
also had a boy detailed to cook for us, the mo- 
ments being too precious to be wasted by us in 
preparing food for ourselves — and we forgot even to 
partake of it for hours together, so intently were 
we engaged in the work of alleviating the terri- 
ble misery. 

We dreaded the nights, for we lay, through the 
dark hours, insuflSciently protected from the cold, 
17 



25S IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

yet knowing there were hundreds of wounded in 
the open air who had far less covering than we. 

The Sanitary and Christian Commissions were 
on the ground at work, as were also Mrs. Brainard, 
and a New York State agent, by the name of Mrs. 
Spencer — a noble woman, who did her work of 
mercy well. She occupied one of the log houses, 
vacated by the negroes, on the brink of the river. 
Her stores had been brought on the medical pur- 
veyor's boat, the stoves erected, cooks detailed, and 
the food sent wherever a scanty supply existed. 

I was constantly meeting with men whom I 
had known in former hosj^itals; dirty, ragged, 
starved, and wounded they would' beg of me for 
the merest morsel of food — their hollow eyes plead- 
ing as the parched lips framed the request, ^' Oh ! 
Miss Bucklin, you used to get us nice things to 
eat, can't you find us something now ?" 

The cry for food was the standing one in the 
hastily constructed field hospitals. The men 
had been stricken down in full health, and the 
drain caused by the constant discharges of wounds 
seemed to make a greater supply necessary than 
was really needed before. " Something to eat — 
something to eat," was the cry everyw^here. 
Things that had been common fare at home were 
luxuries now, and in the feverish moments of 
sleep many were tormented with dreams of loaded 
tables, to aggravate their distress. Those thirst- 
ing for water, could hear the little rill dropping 
into a cool basin, not a gtone's throw from their 



GETTING SOME FOOD. 259 

side, but heavy swollen limbs refused to drag them 
hither, and certainly there were not hands enough 
to attend to the wants of the many thousand 
sufferers. 

One of my former patients, learning that I was 
on the field, came a mile and a half on crutches 
to beg of me for something to eat. It was while 
we were living on charity ourselves, and I could 
neither deny him, nor promise him food with any 
degree of certainty. Seating him in our tent, I 
ran over to Mrs. Spencer's, where I procured 
baked pork and beans, and a dried apple pic — 
the last one she had. Hastening back, I sat it on 
a corner of the table, and bade him eat. 

I saw tears trickle down his cheeks, as he par- 
took of the fare which he could not but regard as 
generous. On leaving, he requested me to obtain 
food from the Sanitary Commission for him on 
the morrow, promising to return if able to walk 
so far. He complained of great weariness as he 
left the tent, and, although I procured several 
articles, I never saw or heard of him more. 

Another one called in behalf of himself and 
comrades, and I collected quite a quantity of nice 
things as they termed them — amongst other things, 
a can of condensed milk for their cotfee, and some 
canned fruit. 

The cook, who had charge of the kitchen at 
Wolf-street Hospital, during my stay, and whose 
extravagant fondness for biscuit had so suddenly 
ended my duties in that model institution, came 



260 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

to me here one day, and nsked, as the greatest 
favor I could confer on him, the making of a pan 
of biscuit, provided he would furnish the ma- 
terial. 

I promised to do my best for him, and away he 
hurried, soon returning with flour, lard, tartaric 
acid, soda, salt and water. I am sure I never 
achieved a greater success in the cooking line 
than was exhibited in those same biscuits. They 
were tender as puff-balls, and as I took them from 
the stove, which stood in the open air, the old 
gentleman who had attended me through my ill- 
ness with typhoid fever, at Camp Stoneman, came 
up and exclaimed, holding out his hand, " These 
look like home — do give me some 1" Of course I 
gave him some, and also was informed as he ate 
them that he had been home since I saw him at 
the post hospital, and had returned in time to par- 
ticipate in the late battles. 

The remainder of the biscuits were taken away 
by the soldier for whom they were made, to share 
them with his tent-mates. At this time, also, a 
one-armed soldier, whom I had known at Gettys- 
burg, came up. He had come out as a wagoner, 
eager still to do for his country, while she needed 
men. He had lain by the side of a companion 
who had lost an arm also — one having lost his 
right arm, and the other his left — thus making 
one pair still left between the two. I remembered 
him all the more distinctly, from the circum- 
stance of a theft having been perpetrated on the 



JOURNEY OF TORMENT. 261 

poor fellow a few nights previous to leaving Camp 
Letterman. ' A roll of greenbacks, amounting to 
one hundred and eighty dollars, was taken from 
his pocket, as he lay sleeping on the outside of his 
bed. Every one felt that the wretch who could 
rob a disabled soldier was too vile to live. The 
twain always spoke of themselves as one flesh, 
and when I gave them food often remarked that 
it mattered little which had it — what I gave to 
one I gave to both. 

After our stores arrived, and our immediate 
wants were less pressing, we often procured orders 
for lemons, oranges, nutmegs, eggs, milk, sugar and 
soda, upon the promise to divide the cooked food 
between the officials and the patients. 

The transports were soon in waiting to convey 
the wounded men to Washington, and they were 
often taken on board in a dying condition. The 
hard necessity for immediate removal proved the 
death of many a noble fellow, who else might 
have been restored to those who loved him. 
They were packed on decks and in cabins so 
closely that there was scarcely room to turn when 
tired of any one posture, had the nature of their 
wounds rendered motion possible. To those who 
lived the journey proved a horrible torment, on 
which they will, no doubt, reflect with a shudder. 

One evening, when assembled for supper, we 
saw full ranks of able-bodied soldiers marching 
steadily by. They gazed wonderingly on the 
little group of women, who had never before seen 



262 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

SO many fit for duty together, although thousands 
of their wounded comrades had lain close at our 
hands. " Them's good for sore eyes, boys," re- 
marked one. "I haven't seen one before in six 
montl>s," said another. " Nor I in eight," said a 
third, while many similar expressions fell from 
the lips of the men, as they passed on. They 
were dirty and ragged — some shoeless, some hat- 
less, some with scarcely clothes enough upon their 
bodies to cover their nakedness, and with long 
unlvempt hair, and grizzled visages — and were 
loaded down with cartridge-box, rifle, haversack, 
canteen, blanket, and tent-cover. They were 
marching to join the grand army, which was 
swinging round to the front of Petersburg, and 
to-day many a poor fellow of that ragged throng 
lies in the trenches which were there dug for the 
bodies of the slain. 

The day following we watched another crowd, 
which, coming on, revealed in the centre the gray 
uniforms of rebels. I was told they numbered 
six hundred, and had been captured a few days 
previous. They were under colored guard, and 
the ebony escorts walked proudly along with fixed 
bayonets, ready to hurry on those who had been 
their former masters, if the ranks were not kept 
well closed up. 

It was ludicrous to see the air of conscious su- 
periority which they assumed at times toward the 
former chivalry. A gaping throng of contrabands 
followed at a respectful distance, old men and 



THE DYING BOY. 263 

women, wrinkled and bent, hobbling along, eager 
to watch the progress of the crest-fallen foe. 
Some of these professed to have been the property 
of George Washington — one old woman, who gave 
her age at one hundred and eight years, was an 
object of much curiositj'. 

I will never forget the look of her black eyes, 
which lay far back in their hollow sockets, while 
the wrinkled skin of her black face and hands, 
seemed to have been dried down upon the bones 
and muscles, and the great full veins which 
seamed them stood up like round cords raised on 
the surface. 

The former owner of the plantation, Gen. Fitz 
Hugh Lee, was said to be amongst the prisoners, 
and was being marched over his own grounds, a 
spectacle to the knot of negroes who once called 
him " master." 

I was called, while looking at the prisoners, to 
an ambulance, within which I found a former 
patient of mine, who gave me an account of his 
wound and of his narrow escape from being taken 
prisoner by the same men who had fallen into our 
hands a little later. He said, " My companions 
here are our Southern brethren." I remarked 
that I had taken care of a great many of them. 
One whimpered out, " We won't shoot Yankees 
any more." " You'll not have an opportunity for 
some time to come," I replied, giving him all the 
consolation in my power at the moment. 

In another ambulance lay a boy, who, by his 



264 m HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

looks, I should judge to have been scarcely four- 
teen — a torn and bloody shirt, and ragged pants, 
the only clothmg upon his body — his right arm 
thrown over head, and his white lips moaning, 
^' Mother ! mother !" I mounted on the steps of 
the vehicle, and tried to talk with him, to find 
out the nature and severity of his wound, but he 
was too far gone to make any reply. Only the 
one last dream of home, and the mother on whose 
fond breast his dying head should have been 
pillowed, was present in his mind. His condition 
was dreadful in the extreme. Filth covered him 
from head to foot, but his young face, framed by 
the bloody sleeved arm, was fast taking on the 
livid hue of death, and I saw that he was past 
human ministration. In sadness I left him to 
die that others might be saved. 

Often the look of that boyish face haunts my 
recollection, and I wonder if the mother, on 
whom he called in the last extremity, ever knew 
how her boy suffered before death released him. 
No sight of manhood's agony ever moved me like 
these scenes of youthful distress. It seemed like 
the tearing up of a plant which was just putting 
out its buds with the promise of a fair summer 
nestling deep in its heart. When strong men 
were stricken down, it was the grain, — the 
yellow heads of which lay low upon the field, 
and the harvest seeming more naturally to suc- 
ceed its ripeness. 

A most magnificent specimen of physical per- 



WOUNDED UNTO DEATH. 265 

fection lay on the ground in my ward, with 
nothing visible to denote where his wound had 
been made. He lay very quietly — a heavenly 
serenity seeming to light up his splendid features 
with a beauty that almost dazzled my eyes when 
they fell upon them. The full round bearded 
face was as white as a girl's, and the large blue 
eyes were like the sky when deepest summer 
twilight crosses its azure depths. 

I could hardly turn my fascinated eyes from 
this feast of beauty, but he seemed to be so quiet 
and eas}'' that I gave my attention to those whose 
wants were more pressing. At length it came his 
turn, and I bent over the prostrate figure, which 
lay with the noble head resting on a little knoll, 
and said, 

" How are you wounded ?" 

" Unto death," was the sad reply. 

" I hope not, sir," I responded. " We will do 
all we can to raise you." 

I questioned him about his family, when he 
said, sorrowfully, but calmly, 

" I have a wife and child — but they will never 
hear from me asrain." 

" I will write for you," I said, and he replied, 

" You may, if you please." 

I took out a little scrajD of paper on which to 
note the address, but ere I had obtained it a con- 
vulsive shiver passed over the great, noble frame, 
and his breath had gone forever. I could not 
but weep over him as though he had been a 



266 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

kindred of mine, and I looked upon the dead 
face with sorrow such as fills us at the death 
of those all admire, reproaching myself that I 
did not forego all other themes of conversation, 
until I learned the address of those who w^ould 
mourn for him with no knowledge of his fate. I 
made every inquiry, hut no one knew him, or to 
what regiment he belonged, and reluctantly I left 
the beautiful dead, regretting that he so suddenly 
passed to the better land. 

To the wife who would, doubtless, never know 
how he died, my soul went out in bitter agony. 
I upbraided myself for a neglect in regard to 
which my reason told me I was in no manner 
culpable. Others demanded their share of atten- 
tion, and I could only push forward in the work 
of saving the dear ones to those who loved them, 
as that wife loved him, with the strength of an 
idolatrous affection. 

Amidst all the suffering which those brave boys 
in blue endured, through those awful days, H was 
truly wonderful to behold the amount of patience 
they uniformly exhibited. Their very nearness to 
death seemed at times to rid them of all selfish- 
ness, and in utter disregard of self, each one 
seemed remarkably mindful of the claims of his 
comrade. Often I was told, as I carried little 

delicacies to them, " Give it to , he needs it 

more than I do." 

So long as reason held its throne, so long they 
generally endured in silence= Only when delirium 



DAT AND NIGHT. 267 

preceded the agony of dissolution, then the groans 
and shrieks were heard that baffle all attempt at 
description. Day and night they were dying 
during each lagging hour. The bloody stretchers 
bore them away beyond the companionship of 
comrades, and forever hid the loved forms from 
the anxious sight of the distant waiting ones. 



268 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE AMPUTATING TENT — ONLY A GENERAL CARE — THE 
FIRST AND LAST CRY — DEATH's CARNIVAL — A PINT OF 
WORMS — ON THE TRANSPORTS — "WHAT CAN I DO FOR 
YOU, TO-DAY ?" — FEASTING — FASTING — FED BY MRS. SPEN- 
CER — GETTING THE PIE — A DRINK OF CLEAR COLD 
WATER — THE SICK NURSE — DREADFUL CASES — BREAK- 
ING CAMP — WAITING FOR ORDERS — "THE REBS ARE 
COMING !" — ACROSS THE COUNTRY — PUTTING UP A LUNCH 

DEFERRED HOPE — THE DISAPPEARING LUNCH — A BOX 

OP SUPPLIES — A CHANGED SCENE — THE SPIRITS OF BRAVE 
MEN. 

About the amputating tent lay large piles of 
human flesh — legs, arms, feet and hands. They 
were strewn promiscuously about — often a single 
one lying under our very feet, white and bloody 
— the stiffened members seeming to be clutching 
ofttimes at our clothing. 

A few tents were up, for shelter, and, as fast as 
they were vacated by transportation to Washing- 
ton, they were filled up from the numbers who 
were lying upon the ground, waiting to have 
their wounds dressed. A general and hurried care 
was exercised for their many and pressing wants 
— it was all we could under the circumstances 
afford them. 

I was passing to the ward one day when, out- 






death's carnival. 269 

side of its limits, I saw a man lying carelessly 
across a stretcher, and, going to his side, saw that 
he was dying. Only one word could be dis- 
tinguished and that was the one peculiar to the 
human soul as its first and last cry — the fond 
name of " Mother !" The spirit was nearly set 
free, and, as it fluttered in its efforts to leave the 
body, I felt that nothing could be done for him. 
I passed on — not however without regarding it as 
seeming heartlessness to let him die there and 
meet the King of Terrors while unattended. 
But scores of men were waiting for me, my 
morning duties were elsewhere, and hard as it 
was, I could not remain away from those with 
whom there was a hope of recovery. When I 
again returned, I paused to look upon this man 
and found that he was dead. 

Death met us on every hand. His cold bony 
fingers grasped at the heart of private and 
officer alike, and they lay on the blood-stained 
stretchers, side by side. It was a time of in- 
tense excitement, when we could scarcely wait 
for the night-shadows to pass away, before we be- 
gan the new day's duties. Scenes of fresh hor- 
ror rose up before us each day. Tales of sufier- 
ing were told, wliich elsewhere would have well- 
nigh frozen the blood with horror. We grew 
callous to the sight of blood, and great gashed 
lips opened under our untrembling hands, while 
from there ruggedness slowly dripped the life of 
the victim. 



270 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

A soldier came to me one day, when I was on 
the field, requesting me to dress his wound, 
which was in his side. He had been struck by a 
piece of shell, and the cavity was deep and wide 
enough to insert a pint bowl. This cavity was 
absolutely filled with worms ; not the little 
slender maggots from which a woman's hand is 
wont to shrink in nervous terror, but great black- 
headed worms, which had grown on the living 
flesh, and surfeiting of the banquet some of them 
crawled into his hair, and over his torn clothing. 

While I was endeavoring to clear them from 
the wound, one of the surgeons ' came around, 
and paused to watch me at the work. " That is 
too hard for you; I will assist you some," he 
said, and taking the can of chloroform — which 
always accompanied us on our rounds, the con- 
tents serving our purpose instead of fire in 
causing the strips of adhesive plaster to remain 
over the wounds — he poured the entire contents 
of the can into the mass of creeping life, which 
for a moment fought the contest with the fiery 
fluid and then straightened out. 

Turning to an attendant, the surgeon ordered 
the wounded man to be stripped of his torn and 
bloody uniform, and a clean shirt and drawers to 
be put on him instead. " Then," said he to me, 
" you can dress the wound as you see fit." 

I took a full pint of the dead worms from his 
side, thoroughly washed out the wound, and filled 
it with soft lint, wet in cold water, then bandaged 



FED BY MRS. SPENCER. 271 

him about the waist. I never saw him again — 
the transport being about to leave, all who had 
been attended to were put on board, and this 
soldier among the rest. 

A squad of men under a fly were the next 
'claimants for merciful attention. They lay packed 
closely together, with knapsacks for pillows — two 
rows of them, with feet in direction of the centre. 
As I asked, " What can I do for you, to-day ?" they 
lifted up their heads, and gazed at me, as though 
an unfamiliar sight had greeted their visions. 

" Everything — everything," was the reply on 
every hand, and I had a full task. 

As our general cook-house was not in good 
working order some of the patients were being 
fed by Sanitary, and, as we women nurses were 
absent the greater part of the day on the field 
dressing wounds, the rations were distributed with 
great irregularity. One day my men reported 
that they had been fed ten times — the day fol- 
lowing not once. I went to Mrs. Spencer for help 
at near noon on the third day, when no breakfast 
had been sent in for the men, who, after feasting 
one day, were fasting now for a day and a half, 
and immediately two men were called, and they, 
with Mrs. Spencer and myself, repaired to the 
famishing soldiers with all the food we could 
carry in our arms. 

After that they were regularly fed by this 
noble-hearted woman, until I was released to take 
charge of their diet myself. 



272 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

One man said, when asked if I could do any- 
thing for him, " If you will get me a pie, I will 
give you five dollars." *^I will get the pie for 
you if I can," I replied, " but I will not be guilty 
of taking a soldier's money." I obtained the 
desired article of Mrs. Spencer, and, as I came in 
sight with the coveted prize, exclamations of 
^^God bless you!" "Oh! thank you !" "Did any- 
thing ever look so good as that !" " I haven't seen 
such a thing for months !" " We were not grateful 
enough when we had such things at home — we 
thought we couldn't eat anything like that — we 
would starve first!" were poured out from the 
score, who each hoped to taste of the pie. 

Often they would long for a drink of clear, 
cold water, and lie on the hard ground, straining 
the filthy river water through closely set teeth, 
while they were evidently annoyed by thoughts 
of clear springs and deep, cool wells, with the 
mossy stones sprinkled at each swing of the full 
iron-bound bucket. 

So tortured were we all, in fact, hy this thirst, 
which could not be allayed, that even now, when 
I lift to my lips a drink of pure, cold water, I 
cannot swallow it without thanking God for the 
priceless gift. 

In the midst of our labors Miss Ballard was 
taken ill — the toils and hardships, the food and 
drink, the excitement of attending to such terrible 
wounds brought her down upon her bed. Her 
ward was composed of the worst cases in the 



"the eebs are coming!" 273 

hospital, the greatest number of severely wounded 
I ever saw together — most of them amputations — 
and their groans night and day were almost past 
endurance, for many of them were fighting the 
fever in their delirium. The ward fell to my care 
after she was taken ill. 

One little fellow, wounded in the bowels, lay 
amongst them, and I obtained a stretcher on 
which to place him, for I thought he could not 
live the night out ; but he was soon taken upon the 
transport with the whole ward, and I never knew 
whether or not he survived the voyage. 

The time for our departure came on in the 
course of military events. "We were startled by 
th« division surgeon, one evening, as we had 
retired to our quarters, with the information that 
we might hold ourselves in readiness to leave at 
any hour during the night. We sat up, shaking 
with the cold, not daring to go to bed, until the 
surgeon again appeared and bade us retire, as 
he would call us early enough to arise and dress 
ourselves. 

We sought our beds, and had scarcely got warm 
under the blankets, when the steward called out 
to us, " Get up — you must get up — we are going 
to take the tent down." 

We arose and dressed, and the next piece of 
intelligence had a tendency to materially increase 
our hurry, as the cry was, " Pack your things as 

SOON AS POSSIBLE — THE REBS ARE COMING !" Oui 

small possessions were collected with considerable 

18 



274 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

despatch, and our satchels were soon pretty well 
filled. When about to be turned into the dark- 
ness of the chilly night, the order was counter- 
manded, and we sat waiting for the morning 
twilight, being unwilling to attempt to court 
sleep again. 

The remainder of the wounded were taken from 
the tents on the followmg day, and we had no 
work for our hands to do. Surgeons, nurseSj, 
stewards, and cooks alone remained. Mrs. Hus- 
band had gone across the country in a wagon to 
Gity Point, a distance of sixty miles — the infantry 
having previously marched over the same road. 

The Christian and Sanitary Commissions and 
State agents had already gone to the landing, and 
we were in momentary expectation of an attack 
from the rebels. We were obliged, however, to 
wait for the boat, and I sat about preparing some 
rations for myself, remembering my journey hither, 
only a little more than two weeks before, and the 
circumstance of the guarded basket. 

I had part of a boiled ham, some pork and 
beans, pie, coffee, tea and sugar. We had each 
a tin cup and a blanket which we resolved to 
cling to closely at all hazards. For four days we 
waited in anxious expectation, living upon our 
ready lunch, boiling our coffee in our tin cups, as 
soldiers do when making the hurried bivouac. 
The last tent was taken down on the third day, 
and we sat in the hot sun, our eager eyes watch- 
ing steadily in the direction from which our 



A BOX OF SUPPLIES. 275 

deliverance should come ; our hearts growing sick 
with deferred hope, as night came on and dark- 
ness came trailingiy down from the cold, pitiless 
sky. Two tents were again spread, under which 
we crawled and stretched out our weary limbs. 

Morning came, and, no lunch remaining, we 
were preparing ourselves to submit, as cheerfully 
as circumstances would allow, to a fast, the dura- 
tion of which we could not determine, when Dr. 
Garslin kindly gave us two loaves of bread and 
some dried beef. Boiling some coffee, in addition 
to this timely supply, we got up a refreshing 
breakfast, wondering, meanwhile, whence Provi- 
dence would send the coming meals, as rations 
were getting scarce everywhere around us. If the 
boats were delayed much longer there was cer- 
tainly some suffering in store ibr us. .^^-f^-^^ 
t A new nurse, Mrs. Stretch, had been se,;^^; dowr^ 
just as we were on the eve of breaking ^^p,^ aiic^; 
her box of supplies was left on }mr^. the boat 
Lizzie Bal-er, which brought her.. While she had 
been looking for the hospital,, the boat,, which 
carried the mail^ Mt for Washington again, 
. taking her stores along.. About ten o'clock on the^ 
last day we saw a boat coming down tlie river, 
which Mrs. Stretch recognized as the one on which 
her goods remained, when she asked me to go to 
the landing with her and ascertain what had be- . 
come of them. 

On our return we found the order had arrived 
for our departure and we immediately tookopr. 



276 IN- HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

way to the landing again. The guards, and 
few attendants who were left, met the anticipated 
attack soon after we were safely off the ground. As 
we left, we looked wistfully back over the wide 
field, on which the early June sunlight had 
smiled in its fresh beauty, when first we trod 
the tall grass which waved over it. 

All had been transformed in the short time, 
since we first stepped upon the shore at the ragged 
landmg. The soft green was trampled into the 
earth, and beaten squares, planned in diamond 
shape, showed where the tented wards had been 
spread. Everywhere there was evidence of the 
great work that had been crowded into those two 
weeks of the hospital's existence. 

The souls which had gone up thence ! — who 
could number them, or who could measure the 
extent of agony which made that field henceforth 
a place of sorrow ! I at times imagined, as I 
looked upon these grounds, that the spirits of 
brave men would ever move among the tall grass, 
and whisperingly commune over the little knolls 
of earth on which they breathed out their lives ; 
that, with the small mounds for their pillows and 
the sod for their beds, they would yet wear their* 
heaviness of soul, and, with the wailing of the 
wind, sigh for the loved mother, or wife, or sister 
whose presence they longed for when their eyes 
closed to earth. 



NO RATIONS. 



277 



CHAPTER XXV. 

LEAVING WHITE HOUSE— ON THE WRONG BOAT— NO RATIONS 
— ^ANCHORING FOR THE NIGHT — A LOVELY MORNING — 
PLOUGHING THROUGH MEADOWS — HOW. HUNGER GNAWED 
US— GRAND ARMY OF THE REPUBLIO- THE PASSAGE OF 
THE RIVER— PORK, CRACKERS, AND COFFEE— DISASTROUS 
ATTEMPTS — THE CHOICE OF TWO EVILS — ON OUR OWN 
BARGES — RATIONS — CITY POINT — CONFUSION AGAIN — A 
NEW COOK — A SAVORY MEAL — TO WAIT — THE COLORED 
WOUNDED — THE MARCH—" HALT !" — ^HOSPITAL GROUND 
— THE WELCOME TENTS — DEW DROPS EVERYWHERE — IN 
THE CORN — PROSPECTS OF A FAST — " I THINK I HAVE FOUND 
A BARREL OF PORK " — THE FILTHY OLD STRETCHER — "THE 
WOUNDED ARE COMING !" — THE SABBATH — THE VISITORS. 

At the landing a new and commodious wharf 
had been built, alongside of which steamers had 
been quietly lying awaiting our arrival. Soon 
the eagerness of every one to be the first on board 
produced, a: scene of the wildest confusion, accom- 
panied by a general scramble to reach the decks of 
the vessels. 

Whether by mistake or premeditated purpose, 
we were put on board the mail boat Lizzie Baker, 
and, as she shoved out into the stream, Dr. Bur^- 
meister called out to us, " Have you any. rations?'^ 
"Not a mouthful," was the reply; whereupon, 
with an injunction to the captain to take good 
care of the Government nurses, the doctor got 



278 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

aboard the right boat, to whicb four barges were 
attached, containing our stores and rations. Thus 
we were again in possession of our accustomed 
luck.- The rations on the boat were scanty for the 
crew of themselves, and, long before the scorching 
sun had gone down into the west, hunger gnawed 
at us, and everything and every one seemed un- 
concerned as to our fate. 

Mrs. Stretch found her box of stores, but it had 
been broken into, and the most of the eatables 
abstracted. Seven eggs, a pound of crackers, a 
little tea, and some lemons made up the sum total 
of food which was to sustain four grown persons 
through a journey of not less than two long sum- 
mer days; 

We passed down the Pamunky without inter- 
ruption, and did not find much to admire on 
the low, scrubby banks. As night drew on we 
anchored at the mouth of the York River — for 
night travel was dangerous, several captains 
having been shot by sharpshooters who lurked 
along the banks and who aimed the deadly rifles 
at the pilot houses with fatal effect. 

The morning sun rose cloudless over the scene. 
No sense of personal danger or discomfort could 
shut our eyes to the beauty which lay spread 
along, to' an unusual degree, on either shore. The 
deep, narrow channel was full of sharp windings, 
and, as we looked back into the distance at the 
boats following our course, they seemed ploughing 
through beautiful meadows^ — their black hulls 



THE PASSAGE OF THE EIYER. 279 

crushing through the soft grasses, and tearing 
rapidly through great beds adorned with myriads 
of white daisies. 

We had entirely lost sight of the hospital boat 
and barges — our eggs and crackers had disap- 
peared — and as the second night came on, we rolled 
ourselves in blankets, and lay down to ease 
hunger with warmth and think of the meals for 
which we had not felt sufficiently thankful — 
vainly suggesting to our minds that if only manna 
would drop upon us, or a storm of sea-birds be 
dashed upon deck, how happy we would be. 

Our passage was resumed on the following 
morning, which was as glorious as the preceding 
one. At ten o'clock we came to a stand before 
pontoon bridges at Charles City, which had just 
been swung across the river for the Grand Army 
of the Potomac to make the passage over. "We 
watched the solid columns in long, apparently un- 
ending, lines constantly crossing, which, however, 
were eventually followed by wagons, cannon, 
cattle and all the immense paraphernalia of the 
safe-guard of the Republic. 

The long steadily moving lines occupied a day 
and night in crossing over. In the morning the 
supply wagons had just begun the passage of the 
river and, it was said, the train was fully twelve 
miles long. 

In the night our barges came alongside, when 
some of the soldiers let down the life-boat and 
went to them bringing back a piece of pork, with 



280' IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

some hard crackers and coffee, setting up tlie 
remainder of the night to cook it. 

In the morning — the fourth after leaving White 
House landing — each of us was served with a cup 
of steaming coffee, a slice of fat boiled pork, and 
two hard crackers. The meal looked inviting, 
indeed, but the first attemjot to swallow a piece of 
the fat pork resulted disastrously, in the face of 
stomachs made weak by long, fasting; therefore 
we could but indulge in a little coffee, with a 
moderate taste of the cracker after it was thor- 
oughly soaked. 

The Lizzie Baker was now ordered back to 
"Washington, ajid we were given the choice of 
returning or 'being landed on the shore, upon ^ 
narrow ledge, whence an almost perpendicular 
ascent of m-any feet led to a fort which was being 
built. Mules and men looked like mites in their 
high-up position, and I did not fancy the idea of 
attempting to crawl on my hands and feet up that 
shelving and yellow ateep. I preferred a few 
days more of suffering to being left exposed to 
the sun and night without hope of immediate 
relief 

But the captain waa anxious to get rid of his 
somewhat unwelcome crew, during their scarcity 
of provisions, and, after a time, we were put on 
board another boat and taken to our own barges. 
These were crowded to suffocation, and there was 
scarcely a spot on. which we could set down our 
feet. The Sanitary and Christian Commissions, 



CONFUSION AGAIN. 281 

and all the agencies, with their supplies, were on 
board, and we, the employees of the Government, 
who had a right to transportation had been shut 
out. By and by a place was cleared on top of the 
barge, a tent was put up, some bedsteads were 
put in, and we were shown to our ncAv and com- 
fortable quarters. 

The Massachusetts agency spread a nice table 
for us, but the difficulty of reaching the vessel 
from the flat top of the barge made it necessary to 
decline the attempt to clamber up, and we ob- 
tained our own rations, and ate them, having our 
hunger for the sauce. We slept soundly that 
night on the bare slats of our bedsteads, having 
been completely worn out with the lediousness of 
the yet unended journey. After passing one night 
and the most of two days in our tent, exposed to 
the sun and cold alternately, we landed at City 
Point in the afternoon, scrambling up the steep 
bank to mingle in the confusion whiah greeted us 
on every hand. 

Here again were cannon, cattle, contrabands, 
rebels, and the boys in blue. The army supplies, 
heavily guarded, were also there, and while the 
women of the commissions and agencies went to 
seek Gen. Grant's headquarters, we gathered in a 
little knot, apart from all others — keeping our- 
selves aloof, as much as possible, according to the 
instructions of Miss Dix. 

Seeing a soldier, and not knowing whether he 
could make a cup of coffee, or boil a potato, I 



282 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

asked him if he would be our cook. He assented, 
and went to work, making a handful of fire, 
digging some potatoes which had grown wild in 
one of the deserted garden in the ruined town, 
and boiling them in a quart cup. 

An old coffee pot, rusty, and black with age, 
which had doubtless lain there since McClelland's 
peninsula campaign, was pressed into service, and 
in that he cooked our coffee, which we drank with 
nothing else to make it palatable and withoui: so 
much as a murmur. Standing arotmd tli-e steps 
of an old dilapidated building, we ate what seemed 
to us one of the most savory meals of our lives — - 
although we had only potatoes without salt, raw 
coffee, and " hard tack" — using for butter the slice 
of boiled pork which I saved from* my breakft^st 
on the boat. 

Our repast over, we sat down to wait Herein 
consists one of the great secrets of soldierly discip- 
line : to wait for orders without a murmur — to 
sit patiently under the sun's fervid heat, or the 
chill of night-fall— to make the hasty bivouac, or 
take up the toilsome march. To wait — ^with faith 
in something, or somebody,^ while the heart, and 
soul are travelling back along the highways of the 
irreclaimable past, and roaming across old fields 
where lie buried nsany dead hopes, withered joys, 
and extinguished affections. 

The first colored wounded I had ever seea 
filled these old buildings. We could see them as 
we stood around our extemporized table, and the 



"halt!" 283 

sight, under any other circumstances, would have 
sickened me at once. Some of them had gashed 
lips, turning out over a glossy black skin which 
was stained with blood. Others had faces and 
bodies more or less covered with gore, and they 
presented an awful sight to me. These poor 
fellows were evidently suffering acutely. 

A group of sullen prisoners, surrounded by 
a guard, were also near by. At a little before 
sundown we received orders to march, not know- 
ing where or how, for the land was w6ll broken, 
and the sand a foot deep. In our way we found a 
deep and wide gully, with rough and ragged 
edges, over which it was impossible for us to pass, 
and we had to walk around it a distance of two 
miles before either rest or sleep could be obtained. 
In this the men carried our satchels, thus relieving 
us as much as possible. 

I have often, since those days, thought how 
strange it was that no feeling of home-sickness 
ever came over me whilst in the midst of these 
trying circumstances. I scarcely ever even 
stopped to think that if I had remained at 
home I should have been spared these priva- 
tions. I seemed to be sustained by an almost un- 
natural courage, and strengthened to a remarka- 
ble degree. 

The welcome word " halt !" was passed along. 
We were in the midst of a large field covered 
with rye stubbles, an extensive corn field lying on 
one hand, and a wide spreading meadow on the 



284 IK HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

other. In the midst of the growing com a log 
house lifted up its clumsy roof and uneven sides, 
whilst behind it was a piece of woodland. A 
large house once stood near at hand, but the 
blackened chimneys alone remained, leaning over 
the half destroyed foundations. 

We sat on the ground until late — choosing 
rather to keep each other company than to sleep 
without a shelter on the stubbly ground. There 
were fourteen of us nurses in this little anxious 
and weary group. 

Tents finally arrived, and were put up in two 
pairs with a fly in the centre — one of which was 
assigned to us and the other to the officers. As 
our blankets had been our travelling compan- 
ions we were not altogether without comfort. 
We spread one on the ground, and three of 
us lay down upon it, using our satchels for 
pillows, and spreading the remaining two blankets 
over us. 

It was the night of the 19th of June, and we 
were occupying a ground which was destined to 
be one of the most extensive hospitals which had 
ever been organized under the authority of the 
military government of the Union — but as yet 
not a wounded man was to be seen. The radiant 
morning broke our slumbers, and we looked out, 
from under our white shelter, to see the bright 
dew drops everywhere, and their promise of a 
bright day. Even the dry stubbles over which 
many little knots of grass had crept^ seemed 



THE FILTHY OLD STRETCHEE. 285 

thoroughly sprinkled with dew, while a re- 
freshed earth looked up through the myriad 
tiny tears as if anxiously awaiting the smiles of 
the summer's sun. 

The green corn-field glistened in the sunlight, 
and the rustling of the winds among the long 
leaves made a music that would have fallen 
dolefully upon our ears on a less beautiful day. 
Birds flew in and out of the wood, busily chirping 
their thankfulness in the delightful morning air, 
and occasionally seeming annoyed at our prox- 
imity to their present abode. They were soon 
frightened away however by the screams of shells 
and the whiz of bullets. 

The horses had been turned into the corn-field, 
and were busily feeding upon and trampling down 
the promising crop. There was no regard for 
the rights of humanity in war, and the claims of 
nature were even more readily disregarded by 
wastefulness. Our own need of food soon became 
a subject of concern, and we began to wonder 
whence succor would come to us, when Dr. 
Garslin came along, and made inquiry con- 
cerning our rations. We told him we had noth- 
ing to eat, when he said, "Come with me, I 
believe I have found a barrel of pork." 

I followed him, and soon returned with a piece 
of pork, and three loaves of mouldy bread. 
Giving these in charge of our cook, we were very 
soon supplied with a breakfast. We used for a 
table an old stretcher which was dirty and blood- 



286 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

stained. No one could tell how many dead and 
dying had been borne upon it, as it gave evidences 
of having done considerable service. We re- 
ceived our pork on a tin plate, which had been 
used as the frying-pan, while the dingy bread was 
cut in slices and laid around. Our cook had 
unearthed an old iron tea-kettle from some quar- 
ter, and our coffee was boiled in the rusty and 
uninviting utensil. With our bread equally 
divided, and using our fingers in lieu of forks in 
taking the meat from the questionable-looking 
dish, we passed our tin cup around the group, 
each sipping at the coffee, and all surrounding the 
stretcher alluded to. 

When breakfast was over I took my pen with 
the purpose of informing the dear ones at home 
that through all the dangers and hardships of the 
past few weeks I yet survived. I had only com- 
menced my letter, when the cry, " The wounded 
ARE COMING !" was heard on every hand, when 
active search was at once instituted for lint, 
bandages, sponges, and shears. The wounded 
soon arrived having the badges of the Ninth 
Corps upon their caps, and as no nurses belong- 
ing to that corps had as yet arrived, and a boat 
was in waiting to convey them to Washington, as 
soon as their wounds were dressed, we went to 
work. 

Our tent was given up to as many as could be 
laid under it — straw having first been carefully 
spread upon the ground. As rapidly as other 



THE SABBATH. 287 

tents could be brought up from the boats they 
were spread, and the wounded put under the 
welcome shelter. The first boat load was sent 
away on the afternoon of that lovely Sabbath. 

We thought of chiming church-bells, and well- 
dressed crowds of people who were hurrying to 
divine service at the call ; of the many who were 
breathing fervent prayers for their dear soldiers, 
who were even now the suffering subjects of the 
surgeon's knife and saw, and were struggling 
against death with the little life that remained. 
It was well that their vision could not penetrate 
the intervening distance, and witness the terrible 
agony, or look upon the death-struggle and the 
fearfully pallid brow. 

That night hundreds of men lay upon the cold 
ground, without shelter, the heavy dews falHng 
upon them and producing considerable chilliness. 
We worked over them till darkness set in, and 
were then relieved to go to our second meal for 
the day. The same quantity of mouldy bread, 
coffee, and bacon, was served on the old stretcher 
out in the open air. When we sat wearily about 
it our thoughts and remarks were of the cheerful 
tea-tables, covered with snow-white linen, and 
clean plates, and furnished with the choicest provis- 
ions. We were perhaps too ready to ponder upon 
these things — ^but the remarkable contrast was so 
apparent frequently, that it was a relief to imagine 
we were surrounded with the indulgences of a 
bountiful home. We were soon interrupted, how- 



288 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

ever, by two officers whose wounds we had that 
day dressed and who, issuing from the tent which 
we had vacated for their accommodation, came 
forward, begging permission to sit and eat at our 
table, and of our fare. 

Eoom was made for them on the ground beside 
us, and they drank from our cups, and sopped out 
of our bacon dish, seeming to enjoy themselves 
amazingly. It had been so long since they had 
seen a woman, or heard her voice, they said, they 
greatly enjoyed the meal and hoped to be pardoned 
for this intrusion. 

It was ten o'clock before we had a tent erected 
under which to creep for a little rest, and we were 
chilled through and through, our clothing thor- 
oughly wet with the heavy dew. We passed 
more than a week in this way, vacating a tent in 
the morning for the wounded, and at night wait- 
ing for another to be spread, or having only the 
blue sky for our tent-roof and canvas, and no 
place which we could really call our quarters. 
Our wounded officers went to Washington the 
next day, after breakfasting with us, and I never 
saw their faces again. Their wounds were not 
serious — one having been struck in the neck, and 
the other in the arm. 



DEATH A MERCIFUL RELEASE. 289 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

THE SECOND COEPS — FORTY DAYS AND NIGHTS — DEATH A 
MERCIFUL RELEASE — SOLDIERS' FARE — BAD RATIONS — 
ABSOLUTE STARVATION — MOULDY, WORMY CRACKERS — 
SLEEPLESS NIGHTS — SOME ONE TO BLAME — THE BEAR- 
LIKE SURGEON — THE CONFERENCE — A PROMISE — GOING 
TO WASHINGTON WITH THE WOUNDED — THE THUNDER- 
STORM — THE ANGEL OF DEATH — A DROWNED MAN — THE 

STARK CORPSE — DRESSING THE WOUNDS — UNLOADING 

A CUP OF TEA — THE MARTYR NURSE. 

The Second Corps fought for forty days and 
nights in front of Petersburg, and all that time the 
field was covered with wounded, and our work 
went on without cessation. Dead and dying lay 
amongst them, and they were carried under tents 
and rolled together like the logs on a corduroy 
road. The condition of those for whom shelter 
could not be obtained was pitiable in the extreme. 

"Worms soon bred in the fresh wounds ; the sun 
burned their faces till the skin pealed away, and 
in the agony of thirst and fever it seemed like a 
merciful relief when their spirits rid themselves 
of the mortal and mutilated bodies. 

Soon I had charge of three hundred wounded 
under tents, with men detailed to dress their 
wounds, while I looked after their diet and the 

19 



290 m HOSPITAL AKD CAMP. 

stimulant-s, dressing wounds the remainder of the 
time in the field till the Second Corps was re- 
lieved and the Ninth took its place. At that 
time, beds and bedsteads began to be brought in 
both for patients and ourselves, and a tent was 
assigned to four of us. We had a man to cook 
our food — which he did, in true soldierly style, on 
the ground. 

We could have nothing that was not boiled ; yet 
we did not complain, for the stove, which had been 
ours at White House, was doing duty in another 
division, cooking for wounded men. We had a 
full diet kitchen, but it was insufficient to furnish 
all the hospital, and at times some of the soldiers 
were in a starving condition, or reduced to wormy, 
mouldy " hard tack." It was resolved to remedy 
this defect by starting an extra diet kitchen, and 
in this corn-starch was boiled, often burned, then 
thrown into an old tub, and allowed to stand until 
it had a green mould over the surface. Tea was 
cooked in an iron kettle and poured into another 
tub where hot or cold water, whichever seemed 
most convenient, was turned in to reduce it. 
These, with an occasional soup of the poorest 
quality, and deficient in quantity, and with bits 
of dry bread, were often and again served to the 
sick and dying men, whose appetites had been 
sharpened by the drain upon their systems of 
wound discharges. It was dreadful to have to 
take such food to men whose anxious eyes were 
evidently watching for something which looked in- 



SLEEPLESS NIGHTS. 291 

viting. I asked the surgeon in charge if there was 
no remedy. He promised to make an endeavor to 
obtain relief; but, whether from neglect or want 
of executive ability, matters grew worse, if that 
was possible, and confusion and suffering reigned 
everywhere. 

I grew sick of the mould, which rose like dust 
when boxes were opened, and of seeing fat worms 
drop out of broken biscuits which, even poor as they 
were, could not be obtained for some days. These 
things were calculated to make any one grow 
wretchedly nervous. Sleep almost forsook my 
eyelids, while I vainly strove to devise some 
method with which to a,fford relief Even if I 
could obtain raw material from the commissions 
and agencies, I had no stove to cook them upon 
and was thus utterly helpless. The Sanitary 
Commission was forbidden to deal out anything 
except by the expressed will of the officials. By 
dint of long pleading, however, and setting forth 
the case in its true colors, I sometimes obtained a 
pail full of crackers — which was an allowance of 
about two apiece to my men — after which they 
waited again and said things which dared not be 
uttered in the hearing of the officials. 

Occasionally they would break forth and declare 
that the country might have gone to the devil, if 
they had known that they had to endure such 
treatment as this. They had expected hardships 
on the march, and in the chances of battle, but 
when wounded, and in the hospital, they had a 



292 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

right to expect enougli to eat, so long as Govern- 
ment provided it abundantly — and they were only 
deprived of it through the most culpable neglect 
of duty on the part of the officers who had charge 
of the stores. 

I was not enlightened in these things until 
matters developed themselves naturally, when 
I found that some one, somewhere, was to blame, 
and the crime — for it was nothing else — could be 
readily fastened on the right one. 

Our division surgeon, Dr. Garslin, soon after the 
organization of the hospital, was sent to the front, 
and Dr. Hammond assigned to his post. When 
first introduced to the stern-visaged surgeon, he 
said, " I am an ugly man when things don't go 
right with me," for which reason, for some time, I 
stood in awe of him in his presence. His tent 
was near ours and had to be passed as we went 
to and from our quarters. I usually hurried past 
it as though an unchained bear was within, and I 
never harbored the thought of going to him for an 
order. This state of things went on for days, 
when one night, as I was passing down the walk 
which ran in front of the wards to his tent, and 
then, by a right angle, led straight to mine, I saw 
him sitting under the fly in his quarters, as if in 
deep meditation. 

As I came in front, he said, "My Christian 
friend, are your labors done for the day?" I 
replied, " I believe they are." " Then," said he, 
" come here and sit down, I want to talk with 



GOING TO WASHINGTON. 293 

you." I tried every way to excuse myself, but in 
vain. The authoritative, " I say sit down here," 
was not to be evaded, and I reluctantly took a 
seat. As I did so he remarked that the women 
all seemed afraid of him. I replied that, accord- 
ing to his own account, he was an ugly man, and 
we had reason to shun all dangerous persons, for 
we had seen and were annoyed very considerably 
by persons of that description. 

I told him frankly that the boys said their 
rations were all they could possibly eat when 
they drew them themselves; now, with a full diet, 
and an extra diet kitchen, and all we could beg 
from the Commissions, the men were actually 
starving. I told him, also, that if I had a stove I 
could do something toward relieving them ; but, 
as it was, I had nothing to work with, and could 
only see them suffer, without any prospect of 
relief 

The doctor promised to procure a stove and 
cooking utensils, if possible, remarking that the 
most the men needed was something decent to 
eat, with clean beds to lie in. 

About this time I was detailed to go to Wash- 
ington with a boat load of wounded. I was the 
only woman Government nurse on board, and the 
boat was literally packed — the men lying together, 
nearly all on the bare boards, many of them with 
no clothing only a cotton shirt, some so thin that 
the bones protruded through the skin. My heart 
grew sick with pity for those emaciated creatures, 



294 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

who lay so patiently enduring their sufferings. 
Not a murmur or complaint escaped them, 
although they were exposed to the sun by day, 
and the chill winds by night, while the steamer 
ploughed on through river and bay. 

In the silent watches of the night the angel of 
death came to many of them, and the morning 
light revealed how peacefully they had braved, 
amid suffering and discomfort of a formidable 
character, the terrible struggle with the King of 
Terrors. Many of the stiffened dead lay by the 
living who lifted up their languid eyes to greet 
the dawn of the last rosy day which should ever 
open its gates to their sight. 

During the night a heavy thunder-storm broke 
over us, and, while the waves were rolling and 
tossing our boat dreadfully, the cry of " A man 
OVERBOARD !" startled us all to our feet. The boat 
was under full headway, and, in the dense dark- 
ness, it was impossible to save him, therefore he 
perished in the waters of the Chesapeake Bay. 

It was said that his mind was unsettled, and he 
had availed himself of the opportunity for self- 
destruction, when he knew no efforts could save 
him after he had made the fatal leap. 

When morning came, as soon as the stoves 
could be cleaned for our use, we set about pre- 
paring the food which was to be distributed 
to every class of patients, according to their 
needs. While passing over the deck, I saw a 
man lying near to the wheel-house on a little 



UNLOADING. 295 

loose hay, without any clothing upon his body, 
which was partially concealed by the coarse 
bedding. His eyes were fixed upon the likeness 
of a beautiful woman, which he held clutched 
fast in his death-cold fingers. With the last 
struggle he pressed it to his heart, and I hurried 
away to return with the surgeon after all was 
over and the spirit was free. 

After breakfast wound-dressing was the first 
thing in order, and in that duty I was assisted by 
Mrs Anna Larnard, a regimental nurse, who be- 
longed to a Michigan regiment, and had done ex- 
cellent service on the battle-field among the sol- 
diers of her State. She had carried water to them 
when the bullets were falling fast about them, had 
bandaged their wounds while kneeling on the 
blood-wet grass above which they fell, and had 
pillowed the heads of dying men till their lives 
Avent out. She was rapid in her movements, and 
while I took the men on one deck, she volunteered 
to take those on the other. We had our work 
nearly completed when we reached the wharf, 
at which the stretcher-bearers were already in 
attendance. 

The most severely wounded were borne away 
first on these, while ambulances were in waiting 
for those w^ho could endure the ride in them. 
The most of the men were taken to the Armory 
Square Hospital. While they were being re- 
moved, Mr. Stacy, of the Sanitary Commission, 
one of the faithful men who did his duty to the 



296 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

country's heroes in a noble manner, brought 
lemonade, crackers, and pocket handkerchiefs wet 
with cologne, distributing them amongst the 
weary and wounded crew. 

He expressed some desire to know the previous 
condition of many of the men and how they had 
been cared for. We could but recount many of 
the wrongs that our eyes had witnessed, and 
although we dared not breathe the wrong-doer's 
name, we left him to imagine it without any 
great stretch of his fancy. Nurses and soldiers 
were supposed, by many of the officers, to be mere 
machines, incapable of thought, and unworthy of 
any attention beyond requiring them to be 
obedient, without questioning whenever their 
rights were infringed upon. To men and women 
accustomed to untrammeled thought and speech, 
who neither suffered from nor knew an oppres- 
sor, this was a difficult thing at times. 

Mr. Stacy mvited Mrs Larnard and myself 
to come to the Commission and take a cup of • 
tea, remarking that we looked worn and tired. 
"We accepted the invitation, and after the meal 
was over, I took the street cars and reported to 
Miss Dix. She sent me to the Seminary Hos- 
pital, as on several occasions, for quarters during 
the night. I found there two nurses who had 
been at Point Lookout with me, and also one 
from Gettysburg. 

We passed the hours together in relating our 
experiences since parting, and all expressed a wish 



THE MARTYR NURSE. 297 

to go to the front. Wilmington had just fallen 
into our possession, and there was need of 
efficient nurses. Miss.Dix afterwards sent them, 
there, together with a number of surgeons. One 
of these nurses. Miss Kimbal, from Boston, 
died of fever while doing her duty in the hos- 
pital — a martyr to her country's cause. 

She was an excellent, faithful woman — a self- 
sacrificing energetic nurse, and willingly laid 
down her life in trying to save heroes. Miss 
Goodrich, her companion, also from Boston, 
was spared to accompany the remains of her 
lamented sister-nurse back to the city whence 
she came, nearly two years before, as her compan- 
ion among the trials and dangers and sacrifices 
of war. 



298 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 



CHAPTER XXVIL 

EETUENINa TO CITY POINT — THE LOVELY LANDSCAPE — 
OVERBOARD — SAVED — BUTLER's HEADQUARTERS — THE 
CANNONADING — CHANGING SURGEONS — THE SANITARY 
STOVE — A STANDING ORDER — A NEW ASPECT — THE 

STREAMING LIGHTS — THU WASH SQUAD CLOCK WORK — 

PLENTY OP FOOD — FEELING SECURE — EXTRAS — A VISIT 
FROM MISS DIX — SEASONABLE PRESENTS — THE LITTLE 
CART — REPORTED TO THE SURGEON DAILY — " DOn't TALK 
TO THOSE WOMEN " — THE NEW NURSE — ^HER COMPLAINTS 
SILENCED — DEPARTURE OF MISS BALLARD — GOING TO 
WASHINGTON — DIVINE SERVICES — THE PROMISE OF EVER- 
LASTING LIFE — THE BAPTISM OF BLOOD. 

The morning sun beamed forth beautifully over 
the many cheerful-looking marble buildings and 
spires of the Capital, and the dome of its chief 
building shone brilliantly in the soft sunlight, as 
we moved down the river toward Alexandria^ 
where a number of passengers were awaiting us. 
We were soon loaded with human freight and on 
our way to scenes of blood and death. 

Summer seemed to lay on every hand in per- 
fection. Golden grain fields awaited the reaper ; 
tall shocks of corn stood upon hill sides, and 
from many bent boughs the fruit hung near 
to the grass-covered ground. Beautiful country 






iA- a. 



ggj 



BUTLERS HEADQUARTERS. 299 

seats, lovely farms, and deep quiet woods, at 
times, lay on every hand along the slopes near to 
the water edge. I not only became for a time 
enchanted with the beauty of the scenery, but I 
felt proud of the fact that it was but a part of the 
vast grandeur to be found along the many bright 
rivers of our loved land. How my mind grieved 
at the thought that war with its desolating in- 
fluences should visit such a country and threaten 
its existence. 

While crossing the bay, a boy, who was stand- 
ing on the upper deck, and leaning against the 
railing, seemed to be intently watching the 
waters as they parted in white foam at either 
side of the boat while it ploughed through them. 
Suddenly his support gave way, and, in an instant, 
he was struggling in the deep water. 

The boat was stopped as quickly as possible, 
the life boat was lowered, and sent, well-manned, 
after the sinking boy. As he came over the 
wildly leaping waves, we could hear his anguished 
cry for help, and see his hands spread out 
imploringly towards us. The water fortunately 
bore him nearer and nearer, and he was soon 
caught up, the happiest mortal living — rejoic- 
ing over his salvation from a watery grave. 

"VVe entered the James Eiver, stopped at Har- 
rison's Landing, thence took our way to Bermuda 
Hundred, where Gen. Butler's headquarters were 
located. His army wagons were in straight rows 
on the banks of the river. "We could hear the 



300 m HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

heavy cannonading every few days, and the word 
went round that, " Gen. Butler was after the rebs 
again/' From my ward I could see the smoke 
arise in dense clouds, while every now and then, 
at long intervals, a stray shell fell somewhere in 
our hospital grovmd. One of the soldiers here 
made me a ring from the fuse of a shell which 
came seven miles from the rebel fortifications in 
front of Petersburg. 

On landing from the boat I found that Dr. Ham- 
mond had succeeded in obtaining a stove from the 
Christian Commission for our use. I had not 
seen him since Dr. Burmeister, who was a regi- 
mental surgeon, had been ordered with the Second 
Corps to Deep Bottom, when he was put in: 
charge of the hospital. Dr. Omar taking his place 
as division surgeon. He queried, 

" How do 3^ou like your stove ?" 

I said, " Very much indeed, but I am afraid I 
shall hereafter have to trouble you for a great 
many orders." 

" You can have them for anything you need to 
make the soldiers comfortable," he replied, and 
desiring me to accompany him to the full diet 
cook house, he said to the attendants, " Give JVIiss 
Bucklin anything she calls for from this cook- 
house, and consider this a standing order till coun- 
termanded." Turning to me, he said, " The other 
nurses can have the same if they will only ask 
for it." 

Immediately a change came over the face of 



CLOCK-WORK. 301 

things in our camp. The walks between the 
tents, which stood in two rows on either side, 
were straightened, and ditches dug to drain them 
dry. Pine trees were set all through the centre 
of the ground, and in the front and rear of the 
wards ; arbors were built, making a beautiful 
shade over the walks, and, over the door-way of 
the tents, arches were formed with evergreens, 
having corps badges suspended from the centre. 
Paper lanterns were made of variegated material 
and hung out at night to guide us on our way — 
their cheerful appearance reminding us of a 
village illumination in which Chinese lanterns were 
universally used. 

A wash squad was organized, and contrabands 
were employed to do the work, after thousands 
of white linen sheets had absolutely rotted to the 
ground for want of some one with authority to 
attend to the matter of cleansing. 

An oven was made to bake our bread and a 
second extra diet kitchen erected, and in full force ; 
the tents were made very tidy, with little stands 
at the head of each bed, covered with a white 
cloth ; cupboards were put in each ward for the 
dishes used by the patients, and the dish-washing 
was nicely done in each section. 

Everything moved along like clock-work. 
White the former surgeon wished to have a large 
hospital fund on hand in the event of the men 
being reduced to starvation. Dr. Hammond de- 
clared that the money belonged to the patients, 



302 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

and they should have its value ; if not able to eat 
it in full diet, they should have it in extras. 

The gun boats lay thickly along the river, to 
protect us from the rebels, and we felt secure. 
Every one seemed delighted with the change of 
those in authority. 

I had rice, corn-starch, sugar, nutmegs, lemons, 
condensed moats, eggs, condensed milk, flavorings, 
and ice from the dispensary, and made ice- 
creams, custards, corn-starch puddings, and an 
excellent cream of condensed milk. I also fre- 
quently baked cakes, pies, and warm biscuits, and 
had butter for them most of the time. 

Apples, peaches, and nearly everything which 
any one could want, were in abundance, mostly 
from Government supplies, while but a few days 
before the men were struggling along with wormy 
crackers and mouldy corn starch. 

The Commissions, no longer under the control 
of the despotic surgeon, responded to our calls for 
dried fruit and other delicacies, and the New 
York, New Hampshire, Ohio, and Indiana agen- 
cies gave of their substance without stint. I fre- 
quently gave pie to all of them — a large old- 
fashioned piece, on which they seemed to look 
lovingly for a moment, and which soon quickly 
disappeared down throats unused to such civilized 
fare. Every day I also got a pail full of apple- 
sauce from the Christian Commission, which was 
served at tea — a large spoonful to each man in 
my ward. 



THE LITTLE CART. 303 

Miss Dix visited us. while we were enjoying 
this new regime. She brought us green corn for 
ourselves and the wounded, a barrel of potatoes, 
and a tub of butter, and kindly tented with us. 
She spoke of the hospital in the highest terms of 
praise, and referred to our labors in words of grati- 
tude in behalf of our beloved country. 

We had the satisfaction of seeing men recover 
rapidly under the current generous diet, and 
hoped Gen. Grant would see fit to keep the 
Second Corps, with Dr. Burmeister attached, at 
Deep Bottom for some time to come. 

New lots of wounded were brought in nearly every 
day and night, and yet we had plenty for them 
to eat. The surgeon more than once scratched 
on our tent and said, "A lot of men have just 
come in, and they must have refreshments, or 
many will die before morning." Many a cold 
night have we turned out of a warm bed, and 
gone upon the field, to make milk punch, and to 
help distribute tea, coffee, bread, crackers, and 
stimulants, till all were fed, and as many sheltered 
as possible. 

The Christian Commission had a little cart, 
with all the necessary appliances, in which they 
could make tea or coffee in fifteen minutes, and 
run it where the soldiers were lying, which facili- 
tated operations very much. 

One of our women nurses — whose patients were 
in the habit of saying, as I passed along with my 
hands full of prepared food, "I wish our nurse 



304 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

would do that for us," — made daily complaints of 
me to Dr. Hammond, telling him, among other 
things, that I drew their rations. She manifested 
a very unkind feeling toward me,- when I could 
conscientiously disavow having anything but the 
best good of those suffering men in view. I went 
into the service with other than vindictive feelings 
toward those laboring as I did, and certainly, as a 
hospital nurse, I could have no thought of per- 
sonal aggrandizement. 

I heard of these attacks daily, and the generous- 
hearted surgeon said, " Cook as much as you like, 
but don't talk to those women — talking always 
makes trouble — ^you can work just the same — the 
boys are doing splendidly, and those nurses can 
have the same privilege I give you for extra diet, 
if they will only take it.'* 

Therefore I labored on in silence while about 
the tent, busying myself with thoughts as to my 
most difficult cases, and with such new plans as 
suggested themselves to me. In attending to the 
wants of the men around me, I found no difficulty 
in keeping my tongue to myself. 

A woman, who came out at the instigation of 
Mrs. Edson, who spoke publicly in New York for 
tlie purpose of obtaining volunteer nurses, we took 
into, our tent about this time. Many had come 
out, like her, without the least means of subsist- 
ence or transportation. Some were sent to one 
place, and some to another, while this one, from 
motives of pity, we took into our tent, and gave 



GOING TO WASHINGTON. 305 

into her charge some wounded men. I found her 
quite a charge upon me during the many severe 
attacks of a sickness to which she was subject. 

After one of these attacks she took occasion to 
report me to Dr. Hammond — saying I had ob- 
tained stimulants of her surgeon. This would 
have been well enough if correct, but, as I was 
amply provided with stimulants, I was no little 
annoyed at her ungratefulness. Dr. Hammond 
soon perceived the disposition to make trouble, 
and even tell falsehoods, and said to the woman, 
" If you come here again with another complaint 
against Miss Bucklin, I will send you away imme- 
diately." 

Miss Ballard, who was taken ill at White House 
Landing, had never fully recovered, and was still 
under medical attendance. As she had been put 
in my charge by Miss Dix, on being sent to Camp 
Stoneman, I felt an interest in her welfare which 
soon became deep and abiding. I took every pos- 
sible care of her, until her recovery for further 
duty seemed doubtful. Dr. Hammond thought it 
best for her to go home, and he gave me a fur- 
lough to attend her to "Washington. 

She was carried to the ambulance in the arms 
of the surgeon, and, on arriving at Washington, I 
procured a conveyance from the Sanitary Commis- 
sion to take her to the superintendent's house, 
where she remained several days. She was again 
taken to a hospital, where the Sisters of Charity 
were the angels of mercy to the languishing suf- 

20 



306 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

ferer, until, eventually, her father came for her, 
and took her to his home. 

Upon returning to the hospital, I took several 
bottles of wine and medicines for myself, given me 
by Miss Dix, who seemed fearful that my strength 
would not hold out under the wearying nature of 
my work. 

Mrs. Lee, who had charge of the extra diet 
kitchen when I left, had resigned to go home, and 
the surgeon desired me to fill her place. I could 
not think of leaving my men, while they needed 
me, but the surgeon insisting that I should have 
supervision over that and retain my ward also, I 
consented. 

I had just got into the new position, everything 
moving off to my heart's content, when I w^as 
ordered to report at Washington to Miss Dix. 
Learning this, a petition was sent up, by my ward 
and division surgeons, asking my retention at the 
hospital, and another, at the same time, by the 
ward master and male nurses, without my know- 
ledge. 

On receiving no answer I decided to go and report, 
when, on my arrival, I was met by a suppressed, 
*' Why have you come. Miss Bucklin ?" She said 
she had written to me, giving me permission to 
remain. She sent me back without delay. 

We had divine service after we were estab- 
lished in this hospital. The Christian Commis- 
sion erecting a chapel, and in it services were held 
evenings and Sundays. 



THE BAPTISM OF BLOOD. 307 

Many a soul was here aroused to a sense of 
its danger, and embraced the promise held out 
of everlasting life. Converts were made — many 
were baptized, and joined this church as a tem- 
porary refuge — uniting, no doubt, with the people 
of their choice, in the homes to which they went 
after the war was over. Some went from this 
baptism of the spirit to the baptism of blood, 
laying down their lives for the perpetuation of 
our civil and religious liberties throughout the 
land. 

The generous men and women, who kept alive 
the work of mercy in the commissions and 
agencies, strove to reach beyond the temporal 
wants of the boys in blue, and books were dis- 
tributed, schools established, and much good seed 
sown, which shall blossom and ripen into fruitage 
as sure as the bud, which, unblighted, hangs 
on the bough in the spring time, shall at last 
glow in the golden mist of the autumn, perfect 
as Heaven's agencies can fashion it. 



308 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

PUTTING A MAN IN THE GUAKD-HOUSE — THE DEUNKEN 
SOLDIER — THE PRESENT — COMPELLED TO GIVE INFOR- 
MATION — "oh! IT COULD NOT HAVE BEEN YOU " — TWO 
WOUNDED REBELS — THE PEACEFUL DEATHS — A LOYAL 
VIRGINIAN — THE TOMATOES — "NO, NOT IF HE DIES FOR 
THE WANT OF THEM " — A YANKEE WIFE — TERRIBLY 
MUTILATED — SAD CASES — THE SUICIDE — NO LACK OF 
COURAGE — UNKNOWN — THE DEAD BODY — DUTCH GAP 
— THE EXPLOSION — THE NARROW ESCAPE — A CLEAR 
PATH. 

I TTAS the unintentional means of putting a 
man in the guard-house while in the hospital at 
City Point. A soldier, a loyal Southern man, 
seemed strangely affected by a lethargy which 
kept him almost constantly sleeping. I made 
inquiry, but no one seemed to know anything of 
his case, and time went on smoothly until one 
evening, while making my last round, I was fol- 
lowed out of the ward by this man, who said, 
" Good lady, what can I buy for five dollars, that 
you will accept of ?" 

I replied, '^ I never take presents from gentle- 
men." He persisted in urging me to mention 
something that I would like, and seeing that he 
was intoxicated, and thinking there was nothing 
that he could buy in the hospital, I said, " Buy 
anything you choose." 



COMPELLED TO GIVE INFORM ATIO. 309 

" If you will accept of the nicest silk dress jou 
ever had, I will send to Nashville and get one," 
he said, quickly adding, " I have an uncle there 
who don't care how much money I spend ; 
if you don't take it, I'll use it for something 
worse." 

I made no reply, fearing to cross him, and 
passed on through the ward. On my return he 
met me with something tied up carefully in a 
handkerchief, which I took with the purpose of 
returning it in the morning, in case he was sober, 
and without having the remotest idea what the 
strangely shaped package could be. I soon 
ascertained it to be canned fruit. As I neared 
my quarters Dr. Hammond hailed me with the 
query, " My Christian friend, what have you 
there?'* "A present from one of my Southern 
brethren," I answered, adding, " I took it intend- 
ing to return it on the morrow, provided he is 
sober." "What T you don't pretend to say he is 
intoxicated, do you? Where did he get his 
liquor ?" queried the doctor, quickly. " I cannot 
tell," I answered, when he exclaimed, " Show me 
the man — I will have him in the guard-house 1" 
" Oh ! don't, doctor," I plead, " don't compel me 
to be his informer, when, but ten minutes ago, he 
handed this to me." But he was inexorable ; I 
was compelled to give the desired information, 
and he was marched off to the guard-house. 

A few days later two wounded rebels were 
brought into the ward, when this soldier, fearing 



310 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

they would recognize him, desired to be trans- 
ferred to Washington. While packing his effects 
he thanked me again and again, saying, were it not 
for fear of being recognized, and the consequences 
thereof, he would prefer remaining; still, he had 
no regrets, in leaving men who had the disposi- 
tion to inform against him and put him in the 
guard-house. 

I told him that no one among the men re- 
ported him. 

" Yes, they certainly did," he answered. 

'* No, it was myself." 

'•^ Oh ! it could not have been you, good 
lady ; you could not do so with any one of your 
patients !" 

I related the circumstance, whereupon he ex- 
pressed himself as satisfied that it was all right — 
although I felt as if he questioned the correctness 
of my statement, and as if he would always 
censure the men for it. I never heard from him 
again, and, of course, was not the recipient of a 
silk dress. 

The two rebels, who were brought in, were 
badly wounded while on picket in front of Peters- 
burg. One was a Georgian and one a- Ken- 
tuckian. As the stretcher bearers bore them 
along. Dr. Hammond inquired if I had any more^ 
empty beds. " I think I have," I replied, at the 
same time I urged him to place them in another 
ward — relating the circumstance of the fatality at 
Gettysburg amongst the rebels put under my 



THE TOMATOES. 311 

care, having somewhat of a superstitious feeling in 
regard to taking charge of the ghastly-featured 
sufferers. But they were placed in my empty 
beds, and one died the same night ; the other on 
the following morning. Both were Christian men 
and died peacefully. 

I had still another Southern man, a Virginian, 
loyal to his country, who had been compelled to 
enlist, or be shot down. Thinking he might 
avoid killing any one in action, by lifting his gun 
out of range, he went into the ranks, and in the 
first battle was taken prisoner and paroled. He 
remained home for fourteen months, when he 
was driven out again, being hit by a minnie 
ball on the bottom of his foot before he had fired 
his gun. 

A willing prisoner of war, he was brought to 
our hospital. He was suffering greatly, his 
appetite was very poor, and I took especial pains 
to bring him delicacies. I never made any dis- 
tinction between the grey and the blue, except 
where there was a small quantity of anything 
to be given, when the loyal boys got it of course. 
But, when all could be served, no partial feeling 
was ever entertained. 

I went to the extra diet kitchen one day to pre- 
pare this man some food, when the woman in 
charge said, " I have some tomatoes some one 
might have." I spoke up immediately, "Give 
them to me for my rebel." "No, not if he 
dies for the want of them," she said, and I 



312 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

could not prevail on her to give me anything 
after the obnoxious words "my rebel" had 
been spoken. 

He had asked for tomatoes more than anything 
else, and they were to be had from no other 
source at that time. I searched about, and found 
a few other things he wanted. While he was 
eating his dinner that, day he remarked, " If I 
ever get well, I am going to try to get me a 
Yankee wife — they prepare food so nicely, and 
they seem to know how to make everything." 
He also added that no one could ever have made 
him believe they were so kind, if he had not 
witnessed it himself. After a little while he ex- 
pressed some doubt as to the propriety of seeking 
among Yankee girls for a companion, as they 
looked with considerable disfavor upon those who 
maintained the cause of the slaveholder. 

Some soldiers were brought in terribly mutilated. 
One had his head partly blown off by a piece of 
shell — one ear, one eye and part of his forehead 
being gone, while the brain seemed to be oozing 
out of the horrid gap continually. He lay with a 
squad of men, on the ground, so close that they 
could scai:cely be placed straight, and with their 
feet toward the centre of the tent. As I passed 
him he caught at my dress with his hands, and 
made a noise, vainly endeavoring to articulate a 
single word. He lived for several days in this 
terrible situation, without taking a particle of 
nourishment. 



THE SUICIDE, 313 

Another had been sun-struck, and lost his mind. 
He continually asked for things which he could 
not have, and cried like a child when he was 
refused. 

One man had his hair turned white in spots of 
about the size of a quarter of a dollar — presenting 
a curious appearance. Some were subject to dis- 
tressing fits, some to chronic diseases, and others 
to other diseases. The greater proportion were, of 
course, wounded men, and squads of these were 
constantly coming, and going again as soon as able 
to be transferred to "Washington. Squads were 
also made up to go to the front as the conva- 
lescents became able to do duty. 

One morning, as they were falling into line, 
ready to march, I stood in my tent, watching them 
getting to their places, when a man from ward D 
came out equipped with overcoat, cap, haversack, 
canteen, cartridge-box, and gun, and placing the 
latter on the ground, he put his foot on the trigger, 
leaned over it, and, as it discharged, he fell 
dead. 

A note was found in his pocket showing that 
the act was premeditated. It stated, also, that he 
had never been noticed by the surgeon, was yet 
unfit to endure the fatigue of marches, and battle, 
and he preferred to die outright rather than to 
linger through miserable months of torture, and 
then perish at last. He was carried by my tent 
door to the dead-house with all his equipments 
on, the warm blood saturating the blue uniform, 



814 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

his half open eyes growing glassy under the hand 
of death. 

The thought of the despair which had actuated 
him to die by his own hand was dreadful. It was 
from no lack of courage to meet the tortures of 
life that he did it j but the prospect of a certain 
death, at the end of his sufferings, made up the 
horror that tempted him, and he chose instant 
death. 

The picture of a fair mother and child was 
found in the knapsack of a soldier, who was 
brought into the hospital, too weak to speak his 
name, or to tell to what regiment he belonged. 
They laid him under the sod in the hospital grave- 
yard, while, in our sadness, we sighed for those 
who should always mourn the uncertainty of his 
fate, and who would never know where he slept. 
The word " Unknown," was the only inscription 
on the white board at his head. 

One morning, while passing up to my ward, I 
was attracted by the appearance of an old stretcher 
standing near the path, having on it a man's body 
which was hanging carelessly over one side of it. 
I went up to it, with a curiosity to know if the 
man was alive, and if so, what could, be done for 
him. I started back at the ghastly sight which 
presented itself Death had seized upon his vic- 
tim days before, for the bluish flesh was putrify- 
ing, the limbs were stiff, and the hollow eye- 
sockets were filled with worms. 

I turned away shudderingly, and inquired at the 



THE EXPLOSION. 315 

■ward if any one knew aught of his having been 
placed there. Every one seemed as ignorant as 
myself, and we could only conjecture that he had 
fallen by a bullet, or by disease, in some unknown 
spot, had been discovered' by accident, and was 
brought in for burial by some persons who were 
unmindful of hospital interests. 

Dutch Gap was being dug at this time, and 
men were daily slaughtered. Hundreds of lives 
were sacrificed at this place, until my fancy could 
but regard it as an immense hollow monument, 
lying upon its side — its inscription, the bones of 
the men whose precious lives were there crushed 
out. It is not for a woman to question the ability, 
or inquire into the motives of a military general, 
but I am confident that the sufierings and the fear- 
ful slaughter of the men should have been sufii- 
cient to cause the abandonment of the work. 

Had it proved a success, the lives lost would 
have been counted well-spent. In the exposed 
position, however, no way of protection could be 
afforded the men, while clearing the channel of 
obstructions, and it was eventually blown open, to 
lie a gigantic failure. The dull rumbling of the 
explosion was plainly heard, and the vibrations it 
caused were felt for the space of fifteen minutes 
within our hospital grounds. 

We had been invited to attend and witness the 
explosion, but had seen too much of the horror 
of its progress to want to behold the end of the 
farce. Many a night had I gone out of my tent, 



316 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

from a snug bed, into the damp, misty air to give 
food and drink to these hungry, thirsty fellows, 
and bind up their dreadful wounds. I was not 
rested by the longest night of sleep during those 
months of hospital service, and my feet and 
fingers were always stiff and lame, until warmed 
up with my work in the morning — yet I com- 
plained not, while so many noble examples of 
patience and endurance were continually set by 
the brave sufferers around me. 

We were startled one day by a near explosion, 
the sudden shock of which sent one of my at- 
tendant§, from' the bed on which he was lying, 
straight to the door of the ward. For several 
seconds report followed report, during which a 
grape-shot raked across my tent corner, marking 
the canvas, and ploughing over the ground till 
its force was spent and it lay buried a little dis- 
tance under the surface. I dug it out of its hid- 
ing-place, and it lies .to-day amongst my relics of 
buttle-fields. 

Some prisoners had been retained at the Point 
— so many arriving that it was difficult to obtain 
immediate transportation for them — and it was 
supposed to be the work of their hands. An 
opening had been made into the magazine, and 
an attempt to blow up the valuable stores was 
the result. An acquaintance of mine at the 
Point hearing the first sound jumped under 
the heavy timbers of the bridge, which alone 
saved him from destruction. 



A CLEAR PATH. 317 

Mrs. Spencer, New York State agent, was on 
lier horse upon the elevation above, and the balls 
flew quite thickly about her, and even upon her ; 
and, although her stay-springs were broken, and 
herself bruised from head to foot, no portion of 
the skin was rent. Looking up, at the sound, 
she said she saw a clear path in the sky, and 
reined her horse toward the opening. 



318 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

At!l lIvIn's signs — DB. BURMEISTER's RETURN — THE UNWEL- 
COME CHANGE — WORMY CRACKERS — KEEPING MEN EM- 
PLOYED — BEGGING FOR CRACKERS — A SERIES OF TRIALS — 
A BOX OF GRAPES — THE VISIT FROM MISS DIX — ENLIGHT- 
ENED ON SOME POINTS — THE ANGERED NURSE — LEFT TO 
THEIR MERCY — A CALL FROM THE SURGEON — TAKING THE 
STORES — KEEPING BACK THE RATIONS — LEFT ALONE — THE 
LAST RESORT — GOING TO THE RIFLE-PITS — THE TARGET 
— A NIGHT RIDE — THE ESCORT. 

The days began to shorten, the green leaves 
became tinged with yellow, the mists grew 
heavier, the nights grew longer, and the dew 
Ijegan to freeze upon the dying grass blades. 
Cold weather was coming upon us with its chill- 
ing winds and dark, lonesome days — and no rays 
of sunlight came through the deep mists. 

Our canvas dwellings, in which we had passed 
weeks, seemed insufficient for the coming winter • 
yet we drew a great amount of comfort from the 
fact that a season of plenty had fallen on the hos- 
pital since Dr. Hammond took charge. 

In the midst of our congratulations that all 
was going on very well Dr. Burmeister returned, 
Dr. Hammond being relieved, and things relapsed 
into confusion and disorder. He asserted that the 



BEGGING FOR CRACKERS. 319 

hospital had run down in his absence, although 
all concerned knew better, and succeeded in hav- 
ing Dr. Hammond court-martialed — from which 
trial he came out bright and shining, and was 
sent to the colored portion of the Ninth Corps as 
surgeon in charge. 

Our men were brought down in one week to 
wormy crackers again, while the best fare we had 
was bread, without butter, and tea. Under this 
diet every one complained bitterly. 

For the purpose of keeping the men employed 
Dr. Burmeister commenced building stockades for 
winter-quarters. Squads of men were detailed to 
chop an*d draw the logs — for the new wards were 
to be built of these. 

My extra diet kitchen was merged into that of 
the ordinary diet, and I prepared such extras as I 
could beg of the Commissions over the stove 
which Dr. Hammond had procured for me. But 
under the new restrictions I was unable to procure 
the usual quantities, and my men were suf 
fering. 

Some soldiers were brought in one day starving 
and dying, I went to them with my pail full of 
milk punch, giving each a glass full before getting 
their breakfast. Their coffee was made at the 
general cook house, but being out of bread I went 
to the Sanitary Commission for crackers. Through 
dint of persuasion, and the frequent assurance that 
it was for a fresh lot, I obtained a pail full for a 
hundred men. Although I felt rather indignant, yet 



320 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

I could not blame the Commission for withholding 
that which it was the business of Government to 
provide. 

The return of Dr. Burmeister was (he beginning 
of a series of trials for me, as there were nurses 
among us who were ever ready to harrass those 
who tried to do their whole duty. 

Miss Dix sent a box of grapes to me by Mrs. 
Lyon, requesting me to -divide them with the 
nurses tenting with me, for the benefit of the 
patients. I did so, but soon discovered that the 
grapes were left untouched for days, and were not 
appropriated to the purpose for which they were 
intended. Because ready to fault these things I 
was daily reported to ears quite ready to take in 
slanderous tales. 

Miss Dix appeared in the hospital one day% 
when affairs were near their consummation, accom- 
panied by a woman in search of her son. We 
were going through my ward, vainly seeking him 
from section to section, until the mother's heart 
began to sink, when she said, " I fear I shall not 
find him alive, even if I get a trace of him." As 
we were passing into the last section, the lost son 
came face to face with the desponding mother. 
The meeting was a truly joyous one. The woman 
remained with her son, while Miss Dix accompa» 
nied me to our quarters. 

As the evening drew on, and we were all 
together in our tent, Miss Di:?; began a conversa- 
tion which enlightened me somewhat in regard to 



LEFT TO THEIR MERCY. 321 

some things that had transpired. She asked one 
of the nurses, who manifested no little enmity to- 
ward me, " Will you state the reason why you 
cannot tent with Miss Bucklin ?" She remained 
silent, and Miss Dix continued, " If Miss Bucklin 
does cook for her men, the process cannot discom- 
mode you — for the stove is under the fly and out 
of your way, while she has a box and cupboard to 
keep her materials in. Surgeon Hammond is 
highly pleased with her labors. You are both 
good nurses, but I would not be justified in send- 
ing Miss Bucklin away because you do not wish 
to tent wdth her." 

Then turning to me, she said, " Why don't you 
talk to your tent-mates ?" I replied, " Because I 
was told by Dr. Hammond to keep silence, as I 
was reported to him every day." I then rehearsed 
the story of my trials since Mrs. Stretch and Miss 
Ballard left, and the hitherto silent woman cried 
in her rage. 

The nurse's face grew scarlet with passion, and 
ehe broke forth, " I never was sent away from 

three hospitals " " Stop !" interrupted Miss 

Dix, "you shall not talk in that way. Miss Buck- 
lin was relieved from two hospitals for simply 
doing her duty, as she seems to be doing now. I 
understand all of that." 

Miss Dix could get no specific accusation 
against me, and she left me to the mercy of my 
tormentors, apparently in the full conviction that 
I was strong enough to take care of myself 

21 



322 m HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

I had been advised by a few friends to resign, 
but I choose rather to remain, under all the un- 
pleasant circumstances, than to risk being sent 
home while the end of the war seemed yet 
far off. I had little terror of being relieved 
now. I understood that men and women could 
be easily annoyed for simply attending to their 
duties, and I was sufficiently hardened for such 
contingencies. 

I saw the enraged nurse go to the quarters of 
the surgeon in charge, and in a short time there- 
after he came over, and abruptly asked^ " Where 
the devil did you get this stove ?" 

" Dr. Hammond procured it for me of the 
Sanitary Commission," I replied. " Well," he 
continued " I want another stove, and I'll send 
for this." I protested — but, in vain, the stove 
was taken. 

I went immediately to the Christian Commis- 
sion, and obtained a larger and better one, and 
prepared food as before, when able to obtain it. I 
was now reported as cooking for other wards 
than my own. The woman who had charge of 
the extra diet kitchen, and with whom the sur- 
geon in charge boarded, came in one day and 
asked what I was going to have for my boys, 
adding, that she would keep back the Govern- 
ment supplies, if I thought I could beg enough to 
feed them. 

I only replied, " My boys are entitled to their 
rations, and you must Hot withhold them." 



GOING TO THE RIFLE-PITS. 323 

Soon I received another call from the surgeon 
in charge, and he interrogated me in regard 
to extra cooking again. I replied, as before, 
that I only prepared food for my own patients. 
'•Any way," he said, "I will take ikis stove, 
and that will stop the devilish work." 

An order soon came for it, and I was left with- 
out the means of cooking for the wounded. One 
of the nurses went to the extra diet kitchen to 
board, another went to the Christian Commis- 
sion, our cook was sent to his regiment, and I was 
left alone. In this dilemma I decided to go to 
Washington and purchase a stove and furniture, 
and see what virtue there would be in actual 
possession, and to go without Dr. Burmeister's 
knowledge. 

I went over to Mrs. Spencer's for consulta- 
tion. The commissions and agencies were all, 
with her exception, located on the one side of the 
hospital grounds, quite a little journey from our 
quarters. 

Mrs. Spencer was located on the opposite side, 
directly on the bank of the river, where the 
wounded passed daily in being brought from 
the front. She fed hundreds each day and was 
allowed to draw Government supplies in addition 
to what was furnished her by her own State. 
She had eight men detailed to cook and distribute, 
and the noble woman seemed unwearied in her ex- 
tensive work of mercy. 

She often went to the rifle-pits to distribute 



324 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

supplies of tobacco whilst the bullets of the 
enemy were dropping around her. She asked 
me to accompany her and Mrs. Lyon — another 
of the noblest of women, whose name soldiers 
delight to honor — on one of these trips. Mrs. 
Lyon purposed going up to Washington in a 
day or so, and I accepted the invitation, with 
the prospect of having company to the Capital on 
the day after. 

We went up to what was called the Yellow 
House, beyond the Weldon Railroad, and dined 
with Capt.- Ames, of Battery B, and then pur- 
sued our journey to the front, taking tea with 
Quartermaster Beadle. 

The rebels were cannonading briskly that day. 
We passed from company to company, and it was 
a real pleasure to see the bearded and bronzed 
faces light up as we handed them the little papers 
of tobacco. We were constantly surrounded by 
officers and privates. Death was in the air, the 
noise of the cannon was about us, and the ex- 
pectant faces of those who soon might lie in the 
mud of the trenches, cold and bloody, were before 
us — thus the scene was truly exciting. 

One officer told us that he came out with his 
regiment thirteen hundred strong, had seen it re- 
duced to five hundred, again filled up, and again 
reduced until he was disheartened. He thought 
he was kept for a target. He had been lying on 
his bed in his tent not long before, where he was 
struck with a piece of shell, which tore through 



THE ESCORT. 325 

bis coat and overcoat, leaving a dark line across 
his back. His time had long expired, but he 
could not obtain his muster out, having accepted 
a commission. Mentioning the fact that we 
were going to Washington on the next day, 
he begged of us to intercede for him with, 
the Secretary of War. (We had the pleasure 
of seeing his name on the list, for muster out, 
two days later, while waiting at the Secretary's 
office whither we had gone to advocate his cause.) 

It was quite dusk when we prepared to return 
from our day at the rifle-pits, and we were four- 
teen miles from City Point Capt. Ames had 
sent his orderly with us in the morning, and 
he was with us now, a welcome escort. Mrs. 
Spencer and Mrs. Lyon took turns in riding on 
horseback, while I kept to the ambulance. 
It was eight o'clock when we reached Capt. 
Ames' quarters, where we warmed ourselves and' 
fed our horses. 

The captain accompanied us a goodly part of 
the distance — as we were in the very haunts of 
the rebels, and obliged to pass a locality fre- 
quented by their sharpshooters — and we arrived 
at our hospital near midnight. 



S26 m HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 



CHAPTER XXX. 

GEN. GRANT — RECEIVING A PASS — GOING TO WASHINGTOjS'— 
VISITING CAMP 8T0NEMAN — PURCHASING A STOVE — RE- 
TURNING WITH TWO NURSES — RELIEVED WASHING OUR 

CLOTHES — RAINING IN TORRENTS — THE UNGRACIOUS RE- 
PLY — GOING TO POINT OF ROCKS — A BRIGHT DAY — WEL- 
COME RECEPTION — PROSPECT OF A NIGHT IN THE GUARD- 
HOUSE — SWEET SLEEP — LEAVING CITY POINT — FAVORABLE 
TO THE WOUNDED. 

Desiring to go to Washington without the know- 
ledge of Dr. Burmeister I went to Gen. Grant's 
headquarters for a pass. I found the hero sitting 
in his tent and obtained the requisite paper with- 
out delay, I stood in awe before the gentlemanly 
little man on whom the fate of the nation seemed 
to hang. I had often seen him sitting under a 
fly, in our hospital, smoking at his cigar ; at times 
going amongst the wounded men, talking cheerily 
of the prospects of speedy peace ; shaking hands 
with dirty, ragged fellows as heartily as though 
they were the highest dignitaries in the land — but 
I never stood before him till now with a personal 
matter to urge upon his attention, and certainly 
felt no little embarrassment. Mrs. Lyon accom- 
panied me on board the boat, and our journey was 
a very pleasant one. 

I visited Camp Stoneman Hospital during this 




3*"^»'SMiSje;jj^ 



m, 




aMMms:mm"-:.'ii^ 



§0l§^^I^W'^f 



RETURNING WITH TWO NURSES. 327 

trip. Several women had been there since Dr. 
Higgins was locked up in Old Capital Prison, 
and, amongst the number, I found Dr. George's 
wife. The doctor was on a visit to City Point at 
the same time. A large proportion of my old 
acquaintances yet remained, and I met them in 
the old brown house, where they assembled to 
have an entertainment and compare notes witli 
me. The following morning I was aroused from 
my slumbers by the familiar notes of the bugle, 
and I breakfasted for the last time with those who 
had been my patients and companions at that 
place. 

After purchasing my stove and packing some 
winter clothing I returned to City Point, the 
familiar sound of cannonading greeting our ears 
while yet far away. 

Two nurses returned with me, whom Miss Dix 
had sent down with the request that I should 
obtain comfortable quarters for them, if possible. 
As all nurses were obliged to report to the sur- 
geon in charge for duty I accompanied these to 
his quarters on our arrival. He said he was 
about to consolidate the wards, and did not need 
all the nurses he had, but finally assigned one of 
them to duty, ordering the other to report to Dr. 
Mitchell, of the Cavalry Hospital, sending her 
over in an ambulance, with myself as her com- 
pany. 

Dr. Mitchell had all the women nurses he 
needed, and there was no other resort but to take 



328 m HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

her back with me. In the afternoon I was re- 
lieved, and Mrs. Smith also, although she had 
never been assigned to duty. 

We were under the necessity of washing our 
own clothes in this hospital, having a small biitter 
tub and cold river water for our convenience, 
with the ropes of our tents for clothes lines. 

No smoothing irons were to be had, and ironing 
under such circumstances became rather a doubt- 
ful employment. With mud, and dews, and rain 
about us, it was impossible to keep our clothing 
neat. Some of my clothes were in the butter tub 
when my relief came, and it was raining in tor- 
rents. The weather was extremely cold, and I 
had no means of drying my clothes, yet I was or- 
dered to Washington without delay. 

Seeing the surgeon in charge passing hy, I laid 
the case before him, asking permission to remain 
until the weather would admit of drying my 
clothes. He referred me to the medical director, 
Dr. Dalton, and to him I hastened in the rain, 
receiving the ungracious reply that "he wished 
I wouldn't trouble him with such questions." 

The day following was still rainy, and I went 
to Mrs. Spencer for advice. She told me to re- 
main, and if it was pleasant the next day, I 
should go up to Point of Rocks with her to dis- 
tribute a lot of tobacco, as she had a right to de- 
tail an assistant. On the appointed day we set 
out, in company with Mrs. Smith, the other 
" relieved " nurse. 



TTELCOME RECEPTION. 329 

The day was a bright one and it had its effect 
on my spirits. I enjoyed the October sunshine 
exceedingly and watched with interest the flood 
of light which swept over the landscape. The 
hand of war had not lain as heavily on this route 
as on that which we took on our journey along 
the Weldon Railroad. There, the fields had been 
stripped of fenceSj and the tree boughs lopped off 
by shot and shell, fires had burned through the 
woods, and white ashen heaps and charred trunks 
marked the track of the destructive element 
Here, the trees were yet unbroken, some fine fences 
yet remained, and the houses stood with the doors 
and windows entire. 

We were received with courtesy by the officials 
at Point of Rocks, and mention being made of the 
expected battles, by Mr. Dow, clerk of the surgeon 
in charge, and of their need of more nurses and 
intention of asking for them, Mrs. Spencer re- 
marked, " Here is one Miss Dix has just sent down, 
and as Miss Bucklin is not needed at City Point, 
perhaps both will remain with you." 

Dr. Storrs, temporary surgeon in charge, was 
called, when he sent me to look at the quarters 
we could have, saying if we thought we could 
quarter together till better arrangements could be 
made, they would be glad to have our services 
immediately. "We replied that we had no idea of 
escaping hardships, and that any little nook into 
which we could crawl, with blankets wrapped 
around us, would be sufficient. We decided to 



330 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

return on the following day — trusting that I could 
make this step satisfactory to Miss Dix when next 
I should see her. 

It was late at night when we returned from 
Point of Kocks, and we were met, on our arrival, 
by friends who urged me to remain with Mrs. 
Spencer until morning. In some way Dr. Bur- 
meister had learned of my journey to "Washington 
without his permission, and, by his order, the cor- 
poral and guard had been out all day in search 
of me. 

I did not fear the guard-house. Brave soldiers 
had been innocently thrust into it, and I decided 
to go to my quarters, and remain there as long as 
I chose, if not arrested in the meantime. Others 
urged me to keep away from the tent ; but de- 
clared that they would shed their last drop of 
blood before I should be taken to the guard- 
house. 

I went up to my quarters, however, accompa- 
nied by a soldier, packed my effects, together with 
the bundle of dried clothing, and gave them into 
his charge till morning. I then made up a bed 
with the blankets which were yet scattered around 
in the tent, and, weary with the day's adventure, 
I slept soundly, and without disturbance till 
morning broke mistily over my little white 
tent. 

It was the 20th of October. My stove had not 
yet arrived, having been sent on another boat 
when I returned from Washington, and, I left City 



FAVORABLE TO THE WOUNDED. 331 

Point, purposing to come over for it when I should 
learn of its arrival. 

I soon afterwards learned that Messrs. Bur- 
meister and Dalton had been relieved from their 
positions, and that the hospital was then in 
charge of men whose executive powers, or their 
wills, were more favorable to the condition of the 
wounded. 



332 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 



CHAPTER XXXL 

POINT OF EOCKS HOSPITAL — THE AFFRIGHTED CLERGYIVIAN 
— THE RECEIVING WARDS — THE ARMY OF THE JAMES- 
HOSPITAL SUPPLIES — A DROVE OF COWS — TWO MEALS 
A DAY — THE SANITARY COMMISSION — GINGER TEA — THE 
GENEROUS AGENT — NOVEBIBER WEATHER — GOING FOR 
MY STOVE — INTENSE COLD — ICE EVERYWHERE — TEACH- 
ING THE WOUNDED — THE CHRISTIAN COMMISSION — READ- 
ING TO THE COLORED SOLDIERS — " JEST AS IF WE HAD 
WHITE FACES, MISSUS " — A MODEL HOSPITAL — CHRIST- 
MAS AND new-year's DAY. ' 

Point of Rocks Hospital was located on a 
large plantation belonging to the Rev. Jack 
Strong who was formerly a Baptist minister. It 
over-looked the Appomattox River, and had been 
deserted by its owner as he beheld the first long 
lines of glistening guns and bayonets advancing 
from the pontoon bridges, just crossed, and 
steadily nearing his residence. 

The negroes said that the affrighted clergyman, 
on seeing the blue uniforms of our soldiers, 
had ordered up the mules, helped his family 
into the wagon, and driven off at full speed 
toward Petersburg. 

The buildings were all guarded, and log stock- 
ades had been erected for the receiving wards. 



HOSBITAL SUPPLIES. 333 

My first appointment was to the charge of two of 
these enclosures, perhaps a hundred feet long, 
with canvas for the roof, and neither floors nor 
doors. A large fire built of heavy wood sent out its 
streams of flames and smoke — the latter escaping 
wherever it found egress. 

In these all soldiers, black and white, were 
brought to be divested of their torn, bloody 
uniforms, and to have their swarms of greybacks 
and their wounds attended to. The Tenth and 
Eighteenth Corps were consolidated and desig- 
nated the Twenty-fourth Corps, or the Army of 
the James, and they furnished the material for 
the work we had to do. 

The log stockades were principally filled with 
colored men, wounded on picket, or in the charge 
on the enemy's works. 

There were nine Government nurses here, 
and we soon had three tents assigned to us, 
one to each three. Miss Dame, New Hampshire 
State agent, and superintendent of the general 
kitchen, quartering alone. 

We had a very large cook-house, in which 
each cook had his own stove, and certain 
articles of food to prepare. We had large quanti- 
ties of canned fruit, canned meats, milk, eggs, 
white sugar, butter, oysters, fresh and salt fish, 
fresh and salt beefj sweet and Irish potatoes, 
vegetables of all kinds and poultry. Lemons 
and oranges were brought in by the box and 
daily distributed. 



334 IN HOSPITAL AKD CAMP. 

We had a little drove of cows, afifording milk 
for the patients, and a bake-house which turned 
out hot rolls for breakfast and tea. Apples we 
had, by the barrel, which were given daily to 
those able to eat them. As the days were 
short, the surgeon in charge decided that it 
was not best to get the men up very early 
in the morning, and two meals only were 
served through the day— giving the nurses how- 
ever the privilege of feeding the sickest at her 
option. 

To Dr. Fowler, surgeon in charge, was due 
the credit of obtaining this abundance, which the 
men enjoyed irrespective of color or of State. 
Our own table was bounteously spread also, 
and, from the contrast with my late abode, the 
opinion that something was wrong somewhere 
seemed confirmed. 

Soon after my arrival at the Point of Eocks 
Mr. Stacy and Mr. Sperry, of the Sanitary Com- 
mission, came on to distribute their supplies. 
These noble men dealt them out unsparingly. 
From Mr. Stacy I received a tea-kettle and 
cofiee-pot — each nurse being expected to pro- 
vide her own dishes for cooking and take care of 
them also. 

Ginger tea was made twice a day, thick as 
syrup, almost, with white sugar, and carried 
to the poor chilled negroes, who were constantly 
coming in, hungry, ragged, covered with filth, 
and crowded into these uncomfortable stock- 



NOVEMBER WEATHER, 335 

ades, on which the cold rain fell heavily and froze 
as it fell. 

It was a terrible task to cleanse these wretched 
creatures; and when fresh clothing was needed, 
as it was daily, I knew of no other place 
to ask for it, except at the commission. I wanted 
so many changes I dared not ask for them, 
but requested a dozen each of shirts, stockings, 
and drawers, adding, timidly, that I needed a 
hundred. Mr. Sperry said, "I will send them 
over," and I retired, expecting to receive the 
dozen for which I had asked, when to my 
joy and astonishment the hundred sets of under- 
clothing arrived, together with Mr. Sperry to help 
distribute them. 

As fast as the men were cleansed up they 
were put into the wards, and each woman 
nurse had white and colored patients. For a 
long time my ward surgeon was changed 
almost daily, till I had fourteen in the space 
of a few weeks; at last Dr. Fox remained 
permanently in charge. He was a kind and 
considerate surgeon, and the soldiers were care- 
fully looked after day by day. 

The dreary November skies were drawn over 
the scene ; the leaves had fallen dead from the 
tree tops, and all the world seemed shorn of 
bloom and beauty. My clothing grew insufficient 
for the inclement weather, and I turned toward 
City Point where my winter clothing was stored 
amongst the belongings to my as yet unclaimed 



336 IN HOSPITAL AND CAME. 

stove. Taking an ambulance one day, I went 
over to procure them. 

I found that the stove had arrived, but by the 
blundering of a half-drunken clerk, it had been di- 
rected to Miss Dix, and the surgeon said it could 
not be delivered only to her order. I stated the 
fact of my clothing being stored in the boiler of 
the stove, but he would listen to no reasoning of 
the case — the stove could only be delivered to 
Miss Dix or to her order. 

I said if I wrote to her for an order, as she 
knew nothing of my purchase, she would not be 
likely to give me one. Several standing by said 
that the stove was undoubtedly mine and they 
would not hesitate a moment to deliver it up, if 
the case lay w^ith them. Seeing the surgeon so 
determined to withhold it, I finally said I would 
turn it over to the provost marshal, and was 
about to execute my purpose, when the surgeon 
said, " If you will write to Miss Dix I will let 
you take the stove." 

I assented, confident, however, that she would 
take no notice of the matter— nor did she, for I 
never had a line or a word from her on the subject. 
I returned to Point of Rocks with the long coveted 
stove in my possession. 

The hospital was on high land, and the winter 
severe in the extreme. Rain fell in torrents and 
froze till the tents were one sheet of ice, whilst the 
one fire on the bare floor could not Warm the 
atmosphere. 



READING TO THE COLORED. 337 

"White and black were treated alike — both occu- 
pying the tents and wooden wards. The cold 
was intense at times. Many of my men had their 
feet frozen to their ankles ; others lost their toes 
in bed during those terrible days and nights of 
storm and cold. 

Our first duty was to look after the breakfast, 
after which the ginger-tea was in order. Having 
but few white men to look after, and the plen- 
teous fare obviating any necessity for cooking, I 
passed the most of my time with the colored 
soldiers, teaching them to read from books fur- 
nished by the Christian Commission. 

That Commission established a church, near to 
the hospital in which service was held every 
evening and on the Sabbath. 

Plenty of reading matter was always to be ob- 
tained from the Commission, and I read papers 
and books to the colored men by the hour. Some 
became so deeply interested that they purchased 
papers of the news-boy on his morning round, and, 
on entering the ward, I was often greeted with a 
chorus of voices, asking, " Please, missus — won't 
you read to us if there's anything about the war, 
or what the prospects are ?" 

I was exceedingly interested in these men — 
many of whom had just been liberated from 
bondage, and were fighting to retain for them- 
selves and children the newly acquired boon of 
liberty. They were universally polite land defier- 
ential to me, again and again expressing their 

22 



338 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

gratitude, for the good care which Northern 
women gave them, by the remark, " Jest as if we 
had white faces, missus." 

I often heard singing and praying, as I came 
into the ward, but could not see a single face. 
Putting my ear down to the beds, I found the 
voices were those of the occupants, who, with 
their heads entirely enveloped in the blankets, 
were performing their devotions in bed. 

Everything seemed as favorable to nurses and 
patients at Point of Rocks as it was possible for 
them to be in a field hospital, and, in point of civi- 
lization, it went far beyond any other in which I 
had ever labored. We could tell the days of the 
week, especially the Sabbaths and Thursdays, and 
remember when meal time came, whereas, in 
other camps, the rising and setting of the sun often 
denoted the time for the serving of our rations. 

On Christmas and New- Year's day we had 
turkeys, chickens, and oysters, and an extra meal 
was provided for all. The convalescents dined 
around a beautiful table, in the great dining-room, 
which accommodated nine hundred persons, while 
the patients were served in their wards. 




CASIL! nil M>1 K 




ur.r.v I'uisuN 

AM.PHCTO LirilO CD Nt(OsbornA Pn 



A RIGHTEOUS DEATH, B39 



CHAPTER XXXIL 

A RIGHTEOUS DEATH — THE BUEIAL — THE FROZEN FEET — 
QETTrNG A FURLOUGH — A DUSKY NAMESAKE — THE CON- 
SUMPTIVE — SENT TO THE FRONT — A YOUNG VIRGINIAN — 
THE NEW WARD MASTER — BEGGINQ IN THE STREETS — 
ANOTHER FURLOUGH — THE PURSE — THE PAYMASTER — 
GOING HOME — A SUFFERING FAMILY — RETURNED PRIS- 
ONERS — AWFUL SUFFERING — BETTER THE SHOCK OF 
BATTLE— TWICE A PRISONER. 

Some deaths ocourred amongst my colored men, 
one of which, amongst others, was of a very affect- 
ing character. His wound was a severe one 
between the wrist and elbow, and seemed, for a 
time, to be doing well, but suddenly changed for 
the worse. 

He said to me, "Don't you think the doctor 
talks as though I would die ?" " I hope not," I 
replied. " He talks just as I should if I thought 
so," he said, speaking again. His pain was so 
intense that the perspiration stood in great drops 
on his face, and the five blankets on his bed were 
wet to the topmost one. 

It was too late to have an amputation performed 
and he was sinking very fast. When I was about 
leaving the ward, to go to tea, he said, " How I 
would like to have the ladies come and sing in the 
ward to-night." I promised to ask them to do so. 



340 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

They cheerfully complied, and the scene present- 
ing itself was quite an affecting one. He exhorted 
all to follow the Christ who was able to save the 
chief of sinners. As we neared his bedside, he 
turned to us and said, " Don't you see the angels 
all around my bed, waiting for my soul ? My suf- 
ferings will soon be over — I can see Jesus waiting 
for me across the river — he will take me by the 
hand." 

Taking a silver ring from his finger, he gave it 
to me, requesting me to send it with a lock of his 
hair to his mother, giving, at the same time, her 
address. When contemplating the great change, 
he asked, " Hqw do they bury the dead here ?" I 
replied, " You shall be buried as well as any of 
them,"— not liking to tell him they wene each 
rolled in his blanket and laid coffinless in the 
grave, some one receiving the eight dollars which 
was allowed for the burial of every soldier who 
died in hospital, 

I gave the attendants a shirt, drawers and 
stockings after his death, and, with these and his 
usual clothing upon him, he was rolled in his 
blanket and laid in his last resting-place. 

Another, who had his feet frozen in the extreme 
cold weather, when about to leave the hospital in 
the spring, came to bid me good-by. He said he 
was sure the Lord would take care of him — he 
had always tried to do right, ever since he left his 
home in the South to fight for his liberty, and he 
thought God would still prosper him. 



THE CONSUMPTIYE. 341 

One boisterous day, as I was passing into my 
ward, one of the men accosted me with the infor- 
mation that he had just received a letter from his 
wife, who was at Fortress Monroe, adding, " How 
much I want to see her. I don't expect a colored 
man could get a furlough, though — do you think 
he could?" 

I said I had never known a colored man to 
have one, but I would see if I could obtain one for 
him. That evening I was in Miss Dame's quar- 
ters, and Dr. Fowler being present, I asked him 
if it was against orders for a colored man to 
have a furlough. " Why ?" he queried, " does one 
of yours want one ?" 

I related the story to him, and he said, " Get 
Dr. Fox to recommend him for a furlough in the 
morning, and I will give him one." 

He was recommended, and received his furlough, 
leaving for the Fortress within twenty-four hours 
from the time he so anxiously asked of me the 
information. A few days later I received a letter 
from him, thanking me for the interest which I 
had taken in his welfare, and confiding to me the 
fact that a little dusky daughter had been born to 
them, to add to their mutual happiness, and " it 

HAD BEEN NAMED FOR HIS KIND HOSPITAL NURSE !" 

Our convalescing colored men were sent to 
Fortress Monroe — squads being made up every 
few days to make room for the freshly wounded. 

One man, in my white men's ward, was slowly 
v^asting away with consumption. He had en- 



342 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

listed to avoid a draft, and was passed into the 
service by the examining surgeon from malicious 
motives. Soon after leaving home he contracted 
a heavy cold which prostrated him upon his bed. 

One day he begged of me to assist him in ob- 
taining either a discharge or a furlough. I inter- 
ceded with Dr. Fowler, who assured me that if, 
on an examination, Dr. Werne thought him en- 
titled to a discharge, he should have one. Dr. 
Wendell, the surgeon in charge of the ward to 
which this man had been moved, was present, and 
asserted that nothing but homesickness was the 
matter with him, that he was " playing oflf." A 
squad was sent to the front in a few days, at 
which time the consumptive disappeared. 

The ward master assigned to my colored ward 
was a young Virginian only seventeen years of 
age. His father, a loyal man, had moved to 
Philadelphia at the breaking out of the rebellion, 
and the son entered the Union army. He became 
sick after seeing some service, was brought to the 
hospital, where he became convalescent, and was 
detailed as ward master. He obtained a furlough 
to go home, while I was working amongst the 
men, and a man by the name of Smith was 
assigned to his place during his absence. This 
soldier told me he had several times tried to 
obtain a furlough, but could not, and that thirteen 
months had elapsed since he had heard from his 
wife and children. He wished me to intercede 
for him on the return of the former ward master. 



RETURNED PRISONERS. 343 

He had not been paid in eleven montlis, and it 
was easy to imagine the circumstances of his 
family, left without any means of subsistence this 
great length of time. 

The young Virginian returned, and reported to 
me that he saw one of Smith's little girls begging 
in the streets of Philadelphia, and on inquiring of 
her where her mother lived, the child refused to 
tell him. This I revealed to the surgeon, who 
said if Smith went home he had no means with 
which to help his family. I said if he would give 
him the furlough I would get up a purse for his 
benefit. As it happened, after I had obtained 
quite a little sum, the paymaster made his ap- 
pearance, and Smith received his eleven months' 
pay, and on the same day received his furlough, 
when he had plenty of money. 

His family had been turned out of the house in 
which they had lived and were tenanting a mis- 
erable room, to pay the rent of which his wife 
took in washing when able, while the children 
begged in the streets for bread. Her health, 
never very good, had broken down under these 
trials. After his return, he seemed to be alwaj's 
brooding over their situation — but the fortunate 
closing of the war, in the spring, sent him back to 
his family with two strong hands to work for their 
comfort. 

Boat loads of returned Union prisoners were 
brought to Point of Rocks. Wrecks of men they 
were, with ghastly countenances, with bones pro- 



344 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

trading through the sallow skin, and great hollow 
eyes — all telling of their starving condition. 

The charity of the people had covered their 
nakedness before they reached us. Their condi- 
tion would not admit of their taking milk without 
having it reduced. Many had become idiots in 
the horror and hopelessness of prison pens, and sat 
continually crying for something to eat. Great, 
bony men, the pride of honest hearts, and once in 
their health and strength, were helpless as infants. 

I saw one poor, wasted creature holding on to a 
hard crust of bread, from which no sustenance 
could be drawn — yet he tugged at the morsel with 
all his little strength. It was enough to draw 
tears from eyes unused to weep to look upon these 
unfortunate heroes with shattered minds and skele- 
ton frames. Thin faces told of days and weeks 
and months of torture^ — of starvation — of exposure 
to the sun through almost intolerable heat — of 
nakedness while covered with the dews of night, 
and of every grade of suffering. 

Better, far better the shock of battle — the rend- 
ing of limb from limb, the shrieks, the groans, and 
the gory sod— than torture like tlieirs. 

How small was the terror of the actual conflict 
of arms when contrasted with the infernal rebel 
prisons where men were shot daily for the crime 
of looking through the grated windows to the blue 
sky of heaven. I was told by a soldier, who as- 
sisted me in the extra diet kitchen at Camp Stone- 
man, of the scenes to which he was witness, and 



TWICE A PHISONER, 345 

of the tortures which he had experienced ; but I 
never imagined the dreadfulness of the Southern 
prison pens until I beheld these real wTecks of 
humanity. 

My attendant had been a prisoner at Libby and 
Belle Isle, and, while cooking, he often told me of 
the awful food with which nature was expected to 
do her work at those places. Soups made of peas 
and beef bones, with red worms floating on the 
surface, and corn ground up with the cobs, and 
mixed with water, w^ithout salt, was their most 
generous fare. 

These men were robbed of their clothing, shoes 
and money, and were compelled to submit to what- 
ever indignities or cruelties were heaped upon them. 
They kept soul and body together by digging in 
the ground for worms, killing a stray rat or mouse 
for food, and devouring the disgusting morsel with 
avidity. At last, to some of them, the deliverance 
came, and they were sent to Annapolis, where they 
received the best of care and attention. Those on 
whom no disease was preying gradually recovered 
— my informant amongst the number. From 
Camp Stoneman he went to his regiment, and in a 
few days was taken prisoner at the battle of the 
Wilderness, and lay for eight months in Anderson- 
ville. He lived to see peace smile over the land 
once more, and all prisoners set free. 



346 m HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 



CHAPTER XXXin. 

DEDICATION OF THE WARDS — "COME THOU FOUNT OP 
EVERY BLESSING " — PERSONAL ADVENTURES — SENTENCED 
TO DEATH — CONFRONTING THE FIRING PARTY — PAR- 
DONED — LAID OUT TO DIE — RETURN OF SPRING THE 

LINEN ROOM — NEW QUARTERS — THE WASH-HOUSE — THE 
IRONING GIRLS — THE REFRACTORY CONTRABAND — 

BROUGHT UP BY THE GUARD — THE WEDDING "GOING 

WHERE THE CORPORAL DOES " — TAKING STROLLS — 
THE SIGNAL STATION — BOMB PROOFS — TRIED TO BREAK 
OUR LINES. 

It WAS late when tlie wooden wards were com- 
menced, and quite late when they were finished. 
Chill winds had been whirling over our tents, and 
ice had been congealing on the guy ropes and 
canvas. As each ward was completed, and the 
men were moved into it, we had dedicatory 
services. The surgeon in charge, executive offi- 
cers, ward surgeons, nurses and all attendants, 
gathered into the building, which was lighted 
with two or three chandeliers, hung along 
the centre of the ward. The chaplain de- 
livered a short sermon, after which the sur- 
geons each made a speech, and the ladies con- 
cluded with singing. 

Many evenings were spent in this way, and. 



CONFRONTING THE FIRING PARTY. 347 

with the lyceum twice a week, prayer-meet- 
ings on Tuesday evenings, and regular preach- 
ing on Sunday, we were enabled to keep up 
a flow of sociality, thus' preventing the lapse 
into barbarism which threatened a life in camp. 

Many little incidents were enacted and laughed 
at. Amongst others was that of an earnest 
sober-minded convalescent named Fountain, who 
appeared in the doorway of the Church, as 
the officiating chaplain was reading the words 
of the hymn, "Come thou Fount of every 
blessing," when he stalked in and distinctly said, 
*' Yes, I'm coming." 

Our hospital cares and labors made fast friends 
of many of us, and we met in our quarters 
during many evenings and narrated interesting 
personal adventures. The steward of our ward 
told us how he had stood three times with death 
confronting him from the shining barrels of the 
guns, held by the firing party, and once led by 
the cook who was present, who had been corporal 
of the guard. 

He was a West Virginian, and like many 
other loyal men, was thrust into the gray ranks 
of the rebels and compelled to fight. He fell into 
our hands in battle and was sent North. After 
a little while, eager to do something in the great 
work, he enlisted in a New Hampshire regiment 
and set out for the seat of war. While on the 
way to Norfolk, Va., two or three murders were 
committed on board the vessel, pockets were 



848 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP, 

picked, and other depredations of so vile a 
character that he concluded he was among a 
band of murderers and robbers, and resolved to 
escape, and seek a transfer to another regiment. 

He changed his clothing for that of a contra- 
band, and started for the office of the provost 
marshal, was overtaken before he had travelled a 
quarter of a mile and was soon tried and sen- 
tenced to death for desertion. He told his story 
to a chaplain, who volunteered to obtain a pardon 
for him. 

The fatal day came, but brought no pardon to 
the condemned man. He was taken out to be 
shot, walking behind the ambulance in which 
his coffin was borne. As he stood by the 
open grave, while the preparations were being 
made, it suddenly caved in, and the shallow 
oj^ening was half-filled with stones and clay. 

He was returned to his quarters, and, on another 
day was taken out as before. Strange fatality ! 
The second grave also caved in, and once more he 
saw the gloomy shadows of night draw around 
him in the desolate prison house. The chaplain 
redoubled his exertions, but, when the third day 
arrived, he made his way to him, and said, 
" Charley, I fear it's of no use — I am afraid you 
will have to die !" 

" It is all right," was the reply, " I wanted to 
do something for the old flag ; but if they think 
it is best to shoot me, don't mourn for me, 
chaplain. My peace is made with God ; the future 
is bright." 



RETURN OF SPRING. 349 

The third time he marched out behind his 
coffin and stood by the open grave. The firing 
party held their guns at a rest. The order was 
given — ^^ Make ready, — Aim." Six shining tubes 
were leveled at his breast — his soul was about to 
bid adieu to earth — and in a few seconds more 
the bullets would pierce his breast. Childhood, 
youth, manhood, home, mother, and the circle of 
dear ones — all passed before him in rapid, but 
distinct procession. He fancied he heard the 
crack of the deadly rifles, and his heart almost 
ceased its beating, when along the air was 
borne the hoarse shout, " You're free, Charley ! 
— you're free !" 

This came to his ears at a time when he did 
not expect to hear the sound of human voice 
again. - The chaplain rushed up to him, and, 
in the extravagance of his joy, laughed and 
wept in turn. He had succeeded in obtaining 
a pardon from the merciful hand of Abraham 
Lincoln. 

The corporal, now a cook, also narrated 
how he had been so badly wounded, at the 
battle of Mai vera Hill, that they ticketed him 
with name and regiment, and laid him out 
on an old stretcher to die. And thus adventures 
were plentiful amongst those on duty at the 
hospital. 

Spring already was breaking upon us ere the 
last ward of the hospital was finished, and my 
colored men were moved into it. My white men. 



350 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

being only a few, were distributed amongst the 
vacant beds in the other wards, and I was put in 
charge of the linen-room. 

The room had been used for messes' quarters. 
It was long and low, and had a room partitioned 
off for my use at the extreme end. A great table 
stood in the centre, on which the ironing was per- 
formed, and, at the fire-place and on a large stove, 
forty irons could be heated at once. 

Each night I sprinkled and folded the clothes 
for six or eight contraband girls to iron the next 
day, giving to each one hundred linen sheets. 
Through the day I mended shirts and drawers, 
and took care of such patients as did not belong in 
the wards. 

Twenty-two men washed daily at the wash- 
house, which was located very near to the Appo- 
mattox, and the convalescent camp and hospital, 
numbering four thousand men, furnished the work 
in plenty. Each night, when the weather was 
favorable for drying, a great supply-wagon drove 
up to the door, full of clean clothes ready for 
the ironing. 

The girls, who worked in the linen-room under 
my superintendence, were very quick at their 
tasks, and all were more intelligent than I had 
supposed it possible for them to be, having just 
emerged from a life bondage. All but one was 
very obedient, and she was one of the neatest and 
smartest of them, but fancied, as freedom had been 
given them, they were entitled to their support 



THE WEDDING. 351 

without work. She would remain at her quar- 
ters while the rest came up to work, Government 
paying them six dollars a month and rations. 
Sending for her by one of her companions had no 
effect whatever. The corporal and guard were 
obliged to bring her with fixed bayonets arrayed 
on each hand. By and by I heard her tell her 
companion that she was going to be married that 
evening. I called her into my room and ques- 
tioned her about herself She told me she was 
about to marry a colored corporal. I said, "As 
you seem to be in need of kind treatment, I will 
make a wedding for you, if you prefer it," She 
seemed delighted, and said if her lover was willing 
it would please her greatly. The event was agreed 
upon, and the linen-room was illuminated with 
chandeliers and some clusters of early wild 
flowers. 

I procured two kinds of cake, some apples, and 
a pail full of lemonade, and invited, as guests, the 
surgeons and their wives, the ward masters, cooks, 
women nurses, and Chaplain Hager, who was 
to officiate. At the appointed time the bride 
appeared, dressed in a snowy muslin robe, a 
beautiful white head-dress, with little knots of 
flowers for ornaments. She was accompanied by 
Martha and Amelia — her bridesmaids. Presently 
the dusky lover came in, dressed in a glossy black 
suit, with a colored corporal and sergeant for 
groomsmen. 

They came forward under the bright light, and 



352 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

Chaplain Hager soon pronounced them husband 
and wife. After partaking of the refreshments 
they retired to their quarters, and resumed work 
in the morning as usual. 

A week later the colored men were ordered to 
Texas. Celia came in with the girls that morn- 
ing, and said, "Good-by, Miss Bucklin." "But 
where are you going ?" I asked. " The Lord only 
knows ; I am going where the corporal does," she 
replied, and the girl left for Texas with her sol- 
dier-husband. 

While in charge of the linen-room I occasionally 
had a leisure hour, when I strolled into the sur- 
rounding country. I walked at times to the signal 
station where I was taken up by a windlass, to the 
distance of one hundred and twenty feet. Through 
a spy-glass I could distinctly see over into Peters- 
burg and Richmond. 

There were a number of primitive bomb-proofs 
near the signal stations, made by sinking barrels 
half way into the ground, with small holes out of 
which sharp-shooters fired their unerring rifles. 

Our pickets were stationed near, and the rebels 
about half a mile distant. They often tried to 
make a break through our lines, to enable them 
to get to City Point, where our supplies and am- 
munition were stored in immense quantities. 



VALUABLE MATERIAL. 853 



CHAPTER XXXIY. 

AN IMMENSE GARDEN — VALUABLE MATERIAL — A LARGE 
FAMILY — "THE DAY OF JUBILEE " — AUNT ADELINE — 
HER FREEDOM DIED WITH HIM — THE PIOUS CONTRA- 
BAND — THE INVITATION — NIGHTFALL — WITH PEACH OS 
CHERRY STONES — THE REGIMENTAL DOG — THE MISSPENT 
LIFE — THE GOLD WATCH — BEGGING FOR UNDERCLOTH- 
ING — STEALING SUPPLIES. 

As spring gradually warmed the earth into ver- 
dure the hospital officials planned an immense 
garden on the rebel plantation. One hundred 
acres were planted in vegetables, and soon the 
long straight rows of green appeared above the 
earth's brown surface. 

Mr. Strong afterwards remarked that his place 
was worth much more than before the Yankee oc- 
cupation, for his buildings had been preserved, and 
large quantities of valuable material were left on 
his grounds. The wine, cider, pork and other 
articles of food had disappeared, but he was left a 
beautiful garden which compensated him fully. 
An order, unfortunately for him, was soon issued, 
that all such crops should be appropriated to the 
use of the contrabands. 

A small house belonging to the plantation had 
been fenced in, with about twenty acres of land, 

23 



354 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

and was occupied by a colored couple, and a part 
of tlieir family of eighteen children. 

Some of these were Union soldiers — one of whom, 
named David, was orderly to our hospital steward, 
and was quite a |)et in camp. His rendering of 
the popular negro melody, " The Day of Jubilee," 
was the most original and appropriate of anything 
I ever heard. 

The mother, Aunt Adeline as she was called, 
was a woman of consequence on the plantation, 
and we all rejoiced to see her installed on the 
little farm, to which, by order, they were entitled, 
on fencing in the grounds. 

The Rev. Jack Strong told this woman, after 
the death of the President, that Abraham Lincoln 
was dead, and her freedom died with him, and 
she was his property again. But, thank God, 
freedom lived and Rev. Jack Strong had no power 
to roll back its mighty tide. 

One pious old contraband habitually came to 
our Government kitchen for his subsistance. He 
was lame, very aged, toothless, and worn out, yet 
could sing beautifully, and often, after the cooks 
had filled his basket with bits of meat and vege- 
tables, they induced him to sing something in 
payment for the broken fragments. While, at 
times, they were laughing at his ridiculous ap- 
pearance, he would bfeak out in full sweet tones, as 
clear as the notes of the bugle, and the words 
lingered in my memory for days. These lines 
were often sung by him, and, as he gave out the 



THE REGI5IEKTAL DOG. 355 

invitation, the lightness with which the kitchen 
attendants regarded them seemed terrible to me : 

" Come sinners to the gospel feast, 
Let every soul be Jesus' guest ; 
There need not one be left behind, 
For God hath bidden all mankind. 
Sent by my Lord on you I call, 
The invitation is to all ; — 
Come all the world — come sinners thou, — 
All things in Christ are ready now." 

He could not read a word ; all he knew was a 
few verses of similar import. He had been a 
slave all his life till set free by the proclamation 
of liberty. His whole life had been spent in toil- 
ing to give others ease, and now, at the night-fall 
of his day, he was turned out upon the selfish 
world. 

Many of our convalescent soldiers here passed 
days with jack-knives and peach or cherry stones 
in fashioning tiny baskets — several of which lie 
in my treasure box to-day, together with bone 
rings and countless little articles, each of which 
has its history. 

A regimental dog in our hospital became an 
object of no little interest to all. He was a noble- 
looking fellow, of the Newfoundland species, and 
was possessed of remarkable intelligence. His 
master had been detailed to work in the cook 
house, whence he would carry a basket of meat as 
faithfully as a man and with astonishing quickness 
and fidelity. He seemed to prefer the active service 



856 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

to a hospital life, and he again and again ran 
away to the front, and joined the regiment, in 
which he seemed to be as well drilled as any of 
the soldiers. He enjoyed the crack of the rifle, 
and the boom of the cannon, and had been thus 
far through the war without receiving injury. 

I found some little time here in which to visit 
. the different wards. I dropped into Mrs. Gaboon's 
ward one day to see a patient who was rapidly 
declining with consumption. He told me a sad 
story of a misspent life, which he concluded 
with these words, "I have two children, but 
they are well provided for, and I do not wish 
them to know how their father died. My course 
of life for years has been such that it would only 
cause them shame if they knew it. It is better 
for them to remain in ignorance of my fate. 
What I have here, I shall dispose of here." 

An elegant gold" watch he gave to his nurse, to 
l^e taken possession of after his death. "When he 
died the effects of the soldier were turned over to 
a chaplain, and in two hours no trace of the gold 
watch could be obtained in the hospital. A 
slight investigation of the matter only served 
to show plainly in whose keeping it had been 
placed, and upon whose soul the guilt of the 
theft rested. 

There were men in every hospital who shrank 
from the duty of a soldier and who feigned sick- 
ness and even acute diseases. One miserable 
fellow, of this stamp, often came to me, begging 



STEALING SUPPLIES. 357 

for underclothing and telling of his forlorn condi- 
tion. It was not until I had given him two 
sets of shirts and drawers that I began to 
suspect he was dishonest. 

I met him one day and asked him, " Why 
don't you wear the new shirts ?" " I am saving 
them to take home," he replied. " Where are 
they ?" I asked. " In my box, over to the quar- 
ters," he answered. I then saw a boy, who even 
at that moment was wearing one of the garments, 
and asked if he had -not bought certain articles of 
underclothing from the accused, to which he 
assented, giving the price which he paid for tliera. 
At that moment the hospital steward also came 
up and demanded of the soldier to return the 
money to the boy. He said he had no money. 
'' Take out your pocket-book, and let us see," 
was insisted. The pocket book was produced, 
and enough money found to repay the four dollars 
which he had received for the garments — giv- 
ing the boy the money and the clothing. 

When this soldier was about to leave for 
home, the surgeon found in his possession a box 
containing supplies, which he had stolen from 
the Government kitchen. He was allowed to go 
his way, but the contents of the box was retained. 



358 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

SENT TO THE REAR — CLOUDS OP WAR — PONTOON BRIDGES — 
DOWN TO THE LANDING — THE LINES OP BLUE — ORDERED 
TO DISMOUNT — THE BATTLE BEGUN — IN FEVERISH EX- 
CITEMENT7-FALL OP PETERSBURG — ON TO THE REBEL 
CAPITAL — THE CONFLAGRATION — FIGHTING A NEW FOE 
— TOOK THEIR PLACES — DREADFUL DEEDS — A MUTILA- 
TED BODY — THE WOUNDED POURING IN — DISTRIBUTING 
ORANGES — SURRENDER OF LEE — THE DYING SOLDIER — 
VISIT FROM ABRAHAM LINCOLN — NEWS OP THE ASSASSI- 
NATION — DARKNESS UPON OUR LAND. 

The order was at last issued that all non- 
combatants from the Armies of the James 
and the Potomac should be sent to the rear. 
The ambulances and supply wagons had been 
thundering into our hospital camp for days, 
and stood in long lines, closely packed, ready to 
move at a moment's warning. 

The clouds of war seemed to gather over us, as 
the signal guns were fired, and everything around 
us warmed into excitement. The report came 
into the hospital that an encampment of soldiers 
rested about two miles from us and would cross 
the river on Sunday afternoon. We knew that 
the second tier of pontoons had been laid and 
we waited eagerly to see the Union army drawn 
more closely around the rebel capital. 



THE BATTLE BEGUN, 359 

On the morning following the order the long 
lines of blue crossed the bridge in steady column. 
We had breakfasted, and were just leaving the 
dining room when we first saw them. They 
were cavalry, and, in my eagerness to see if any 
familiar faces were amongst them, I went down to 
the landing with several nurses. 

The men were ordered to dismount and pass 
over on foot behind their horses. Some of them 
knew me, but I scarcely recognized any of the 
long haired, full bearded, dirty fellows before me. 
In the hospital they had been kept so trim and 
neat, even the buttons on their blowses were 
polished with care, their shoes nicely blacked, 
and their clothing clean and whole. But they 
had endured long marches j had lain for nights on 
the bare ground, and through days their watchful- 
ness had been unceasing, and the battle ground 
was only a little way before them. 

First came the straggling scouts, disguised in 
rebel uniforms, going out into the country across 
the river to pick out the way. Next came the 
cavaby seventeen thousand strong ; then sixteen 
thousand artillery, with ponderous caissons, 
glittering cannon, and gaily decked horses. They 
were hours in passing, and when fairly over, the 
cavalry remounted, and taking the different roads, 
some wound around the hill, while others passed 
among the scattering trees. 

The battle began that day, and lasted through 
six more. We distinctly heard the cannonading, 



360 ^ IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

and saw the bursting of the shells in the air. In 
feverish excitement we sought to know the pro- 
gress of the struggle and awaited the end. At 
last Petersburg fell. The victorious army, with- 
out delay or rest, pushed on to the rebel capital. 
Hungry, worn down with incessant fighting, they 
eagerly marched onward. Through the long, 
dark night they moved on until the daylight re- 
vealed to them the beleaguered capital in flames; 
Ninety of its most magnificent buildings, including 
stores, were enveloped by the devouring element. 

"With magazines bursting, bricks falling, fire 
brands whirling through the air, and women and 
helpless children flying in terror, the boys in blue 
began to fight a new foe. The fires were 
quenched, and prisons were opened, whilst in the 
noisome dens the rebel prisoners of war took the 
places just vacated by our starved men, to whom 
deliverance had come. 

Whilst the exchange in prison life was going on, 
one of our surgeons from Point of Rocks, Dr. 
Bresbine, was present. As a rebel lieutenant was 
passing in he asked the doctor if he would do a 
favor for him. " Certainly," replied the doctor, 
not waiting to listen to the request, " yonder in 
all that filth and gloom I lay for six long months, 
with only one blanket for my bed and covering — 
you can have my place now," and he passed the 
lieutenant in. 

Through those days of conflict many terrible 
deeds were done. In one of the forts, the last to 



TVOUNDED POURING IN, 361 

yield, a soldier of the Tenth Connecticut and a 
rebel met, while our men were at one side, and 
the greys at the other. Rushing upon each other, 
with almost unparalleled desperation, each touched 
the others heart with his fixed bayonet, and fell 
dead, rebel and loyal blood mingling. 

I saw the body of a soldier in which seven 
minnie balls were lodged, and which had been 
pounded with the butts of guns till his eyeballs 
protruded from their sockets. He belonged to a 
scouting party of five men which had been sent 
out, just before the battle, and been surrounded 
and surprised — the other four surrendering to the 
demand of the rebels, and he being shot in his 
resistance. 

Whilst the fiendish work of mutilation was 
going on over his murdered body the other four 
escaped and came to our hospital. A squad was 
sent out to find the dead body, and it was brought 
in, disfigured as described — his companions re^ 
lating the horrible incident. 

Soon the wounded began to pour in. Rebel 
and Union, side by side, were borne in on 
the stretchers, from the boats, and all cared 
for alike. Freshly wounded men lay in the 
beds from which former patients had convales- 
ced, and death was a frequent visitor in the 
wards. Our supplies were ample, and we fre- 
quently distributed oranges and fine fruit at Point 
of Rocks. 

Joyful faces were now on every hand, even in 



362 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

the midst of suffering. Lee had surrendered. 
The rebellion was virtually dead and the Nation 
survived the struggle. Soldiers waved their hats 
and cheered with all the vigor of their lungs. 
One dying soldier, who had been brought in from 
the victorious field, and who heard the sound of 
the cheering, summoned all his energies, and 
lifting himself upon his elbow, cried out, " Glory 
to God ! Thank God I lived to see this day ! I 
can die satisfied, now !" — and soon after breathed 
his last. 

The rebel capital, for the possession of which 
we had struggled for years, had at last fallen 
into our hands, and Abraham Lincoln walked 
its streets without a body guard. Where Southern 
women spat upon our boys in blue, as they 
were marched to prison, he walked, followed 
by a people who from their hearts cheered their 
deliverer. 

On his return from the last visit to Richmond, 
President Lincoln called at our hospital and 
passed through the wards. His plain, honest face 
lighted up with a winning smile as he talked to 
the boys of speedy release. Nor did he withhold 
the word of cheer from the rebels ; they were as- 
sured they also should soon return to the bosom 
of their families. Little did we then think that 
in life we should never look upon his noble face 
again. 

On Sunday morning we received the intelli- 
gence of his assassination^ on the Friday night 



DARKNESS OVER OUR SKY. 363 

previous, in one of the theatres in Washing- 
ton. Suddenly, as though the sun had dropped 
out of heaven, darkness seemed to come upon 
our land. The chief had fallen, in the hour of 
triumph, brutally murdered. Truly, our joy was 
turned into mourning. 

Men whose hearts had beat high with exulta- 
tion, looked gloomily into the faces of their 
comrades, and took the proffered hand in silence. 
Would it prolong the struggle ? Would the 
rebellion receive fresh impetus from this blow at 
the soul of the Republic ? 

Gradually again the clouds lifted, and, with 
the surrender of the last Confederate army to 
the victorious, swift-footed Sherman, our souls 
were lifted up out of the gloom and darkness 
and soldiers caught up visions of home, and 
friends as they yet sorrowed for him who had 
lived through all the din of the conflict, and 
borne the weight of the Nation's cares, to die 
when the dawn of peace was lighting up its 
horizon. 



364 m HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

GOING UP TO WASHINGTON — THE ACTIVE SEARCH — FUNEEAL 
DRAPERY — FORTRESS MONROE — MY COLORED FRIENDS — 
AT THE FORT — THE GRAVE OF AUNTY ALEXANDER — 
ONLY THREE FAIVULIAR FACES — A VISIT TO THE FRONT — 
A VAIN SEARCH — A WRETCHED ABODE — REBEL WOMEN — 
WARMING OURSELVES — A ROUGH ROAD — CALL FROM 
"SECESh" WOMEN — THE INDEPENDENT CONTRABANDS — 
MUSLINS AND FURS — RELIEVING THE CONFEDERATE SOL- 
DIERS — EAGER TO TELL. 

I WENT up to Washington on personal business 
during the search for the murderers of the Presi- 
dent. Every f\iee on the boat was closely scan- 
ned, and when it drew near a landing the little 
tugs swarmed around us like bees. 

The Capital presented a scene long to be re- 
membered. The streets everywhere were draped 
in mourning. The body of the assassinated 
President had just been taken from the Capitol. 
The gloom was universal, and no one dared 
to whisper an approval of the horrible deed by 
which the nation was robbed of a loved chief, 
and the name of Abraham Lincoln was made 
synonymous with that of " The Noble Martyr." 

Miss Dix sent a nurse to Fortress Monroe 
under my care, when I returned, thus affording 
me a visit to the sigantic fortifications, and 



GRAVE OF AUXTT ALEXANDER, 365 

a look at those who had been for months under 
my care at Point of Rocks. The hospital being 
two miles from the landing, we took the horse- 
car from the boat, and soon reached the sur- 
geon's office, where the nurse was assigned to 
duty. 

I procured a pass and visited my colored men. 
As I passed the bars, one of them recognized me 
and uttered a cry of pleasure, when I was soon 
surrounded by many black faces. Upon asking 
some of the unfamiliar ones, " Did you ever see 
me before ?" they called my attention to circum- 
stances that transpired when they were in my 
charge at the hospital. 

Everywhere there was joy that the war was 
over. Black and white shared alike in the 
promises held forth to them in the surrender. I 
found only a few old friends in the white wards, 
who were now convalescent, and were about to be 
sent to their regiments, to be thence transferred 
home when the hour should come. 

The morning on which I took the parting hand 
of some of the old nurses here, who had been my 
comrades at Gettysburg, and at Georgetown, was 
a beautiful one. I walked to the Soldiers' Ceme- 
tery to visit the grave of old Aunty Alexander. 
She had gone from Camp Stoneman on a brief 
visit to New York, and on her return was 
detailed for duty here. She had been a good 
nurse and had worked hard until sudden death 
overtook her. In compliance with her request 



366 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

• 

she was buried with military honors amongst 
the soldiers who died in the hospital. 

I had been for more than two years and a 
half in the military service of the United States 
and during that period had only seen three 
familiar faces. Learning that the regiment to 
which a friend of mine belonged was at the 
front, I asked for an ambulance one day, and, 
accompanied by another nurse, set out to find 
him. 

We jolted through mud almost knee-deep — 
through ravines where dismal shadows stretched 
along the frequent windings and reached the Ninth 
Corps' headquarters, where, upon making inquiries 
for the regiment, we learned that our destination 
was still two miles ahead, in the direction of the 
Jerusalem Plank Road. 

Arriving at Gen. Meade's headquarters we were 
directed further onward toward Gen. Hancock's 
division. It was getting late in the day, and we 
were exceedingly weary of riding over the 
wretched roads, yet felt unwilling to return 
without finding a trace of the regiment of which 
we were in search. Reaching Hancock's division 
we were told that the regiment was not there, 
nor could any one inform us where it was. 

The shadows of evening were already gather- 
ing about us, and we were twenty miles from the 
hospital, with a miserable road between us and 
certain rest. No way remained for us but to 
warm ourselves and brave the worst as soldiers 



INDEPEXDEXT CONTRABANDS. 367 

do. T7e made our way into an old-f^ishioned 
house, having a wide hall running through, with 
rooms, on either hand, above and below. 

The windows were out — the doors were un- 
hinged, and everything bore the evidences of rude 
usasre. In one room we found two women and 
four or five children gathered around a handful 
of coals on the hearth. 

We remained here long enough to take the 
chill from our weary bodies and become dis- 
heartened at thinking about the rough, corduroy 
road which lay before us. We again entered the 
ambulance and turned our faces toward the hos- 
pital, where we arrived late. 

Shortly after our return a half-dozen women 
came, one day, to see a man who had visited one 
of them. The steward, getting tired of them, 
brought them to my room, near to where the 
contrabands were ironing. Each race saw the 
ether, and the working girls, feeling indignant and 
having a keen appreciation of their newly ac- 
quired independence, talked so loudly amongst 
themselves that we heard every word. 

One said, " There isn't a decent woman in 
there, only Miss Bucklin/' to which the others as- 
sented in strong terms. I paid no attention to 
their conversation, and was soon told by my 
callers, that they were as likely as myself — an 
assertion which I had not questioned — and if I 
did not stop the talk of the "black wenches" they 
would go out. They reported me to the steward 



8G8 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

who met me, shortly after, highly offended because 
I did not " Slap the wenches on their mouths." 

I felt sure that my ironing girls appeared far 
superior to the snuff-eating women — and that 
they best knew to what indignities they had been 
subjected under their hands. I felt no disposition 
to interfere in the matter. I will add that it was 
a warm May day, and these women were dressed 
in' muslins and furs, with ribbons of various 
colors on their heads. 

"We found it necessary to extend assistance to 
the confederate soldiers in the hospital. Their 
suits were ragged, and swarms of insects had eaten 
sores upon their bodies, half as large as a man's 
hand. Many of these men had lived in the coun- 
try about us, and their wives and children fre- 
quently visited them. 

The pleasant days went by, and the hearts of 
the war-worn veterans yearned for their homes, 
and the companionship of friends in the dear old 
North. Many of them bore honorable scars, and 
were eager to tell the wife, or child, or mother, 
how they had been snatched from the jaws of 
death. 



THE REBEL DEFENCES. 369 



CHAPTER XXXVIL 

VISIT TO EETERSEURG — THE REBEL DEFENCES — DAMAGED 
STREETS — REJOICED THAT THE WAR WAS ENDED — A 
LOVELY FLOWER-GARDEN — HEADQUARTERS OF GEN. LEE 
— THE LAST FORT — THE SANDY FOUNDATION — VISIT TO 
RICHMOND — BOX CARS — THE DELAY — SOME OF OUR MEN — 
CASTLE THUNDER — LIBBY PRISON — THE HOLE IN THE 
FLOOR — OUR ACCOMMODATIONS — THE REBEL CAPITOL — 
TAKING THE OATH — WANTED A PAROLE — RAGGED, DIRTY, 
AND BAREFOOTED — POVERTY APPARENT. 

Haying some curiosity to see the cities, before 
which so many of our gallant men had fallen, 
Mr. Soyer and wife, of the Sanitary Commission, 
and several nurses, myself included, took ambu- 
lances for Petersburg. We passed over a narrow 
road, made by our soldiers while on their way to 
the battle field, which had the Appomatox 
River on one side, and a pond on the other. 
It was made of logs and brush, and was a 
dangerous path over which to pass in any other 
way than on foot. 

The rebel defences were ingeniously constructed. 
The four tiers of works and three rows of abattis 
seemed impregnable to any force which could 
be thrown against them. The sharpened stakes 
bristled up into the air, about three feet 

24 



370 IN HOSPITAL AND CASIP. 

from the ground, and so close that a man 
could not pass between them. Torpedoes lay 
just under the earth between each one, and 
if by chance our men should succeed in passing 
one, another and yet another lay beyond, ready 
to explode under their tread. 

The evidences of hard contested battle lay 
on every hand as we entered the city. The 
streets on the outskirts were sadly damaged — ■ 
every building had upon it the mark of a shot or 
shell. Bridges were broken, fences were burned to 
ashes, and trees with immense boughs were lopped 
off. 

We stopped at the residence of a very agree- 
able Southern woman, who extended to us the 
hospitalities of her home. She expressed herself 
rejoiced that the war was ended, and that her 
sons, who had been in the Southern army, could 
return home. Her " niggers " were free she said, 
and, if every body was like her, there would be 
no more trouble on account of them. A lovely 
flower-garden was attached to this dwelling 
in which, on the orange and lemon trees, were 
quantities of fruit as beautiful and well developed 
as that from the tropics. Buds and blossoms 
and flowers were on every hand, and much taste 
was shown in their arrangement. Beautiful 
groves had once surrounded Petersburg, and some 
magnificent shade trees yet remained along the 
broken streets. 

"We saw the headquarters of Gen. Lee, and 



VISIT TO RICH^IOND. 371 

the last fort to which he was said to have 
retired but half an hour before it was taken. 
With what emotions he must have witnessed the 
entrance of our soldiers into that city, so long re- 
garded as secure against our arms. The Con- 
federacy was built upon the sandy foundation of 
human bondage and could not stand. Blood 
could not cement it — valor and enthusiasm could 
not hold it up. Any other and more righteous 
cause, than that of the iniquitous rebellion, 
could not have failed of success, if sustained 
with equal courage, fortitude and endurance. 

Near the last of May, when our hospital was on 
the eve of breaking up, Steward Browning came 
to me one day, and said, " If you wish to go to 
Eichmond, before you go home, you may select 
some one to accompany you, and I will furnish 
the requisite pass." I was eager for the oppor- 
tunity of seeing the rebel capital and I selected 
Charles Crompton, my ward steward, knowing 
that he was familiar with the city. When the 
morning arrived Miss Leonard, Mrs. Cahoon, 
Steward Crompton, and myself went together 
to the landing below our hospital and took the 
boat for Petersburg, en route for Richmond. 

We moved very slowly down the river, from 
which the torpedoes, put there by the rebels, had 
not yet been removed. Our boat often touched 
the sides of the great upright posts, in passing 
between them, placed there to obstruct the 
channel, but we reached Petersburg in safety. 



372 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

The cars in which we took passtige for Eich- 
mond were box cars, without seats, or the orcli- 
iiary travelling conveniences. A bench, which 
would hardly have borne our weight, was standing 
on tlie platform, and some of the boys proposed 
taking it, when a man stepped up and said we 
could have it by paying the sum of tioo dollars. 
We of course declined the moderate proposition. 

As we were not in the line of duty just then, 
and at liberty to exercise our judgment in the 
promises, we preferred to sit on the four corners of 
a crockery crate which had been put in. Our 
unstable seat svrung to and fro with the motion 
of the cars^which, fortunately for our equilibrium, 
did not move rapidly. Several gentlemen were 
also on board, bound for Richmond, each bringing 
in a stick of wood for a seat. 

We went, for a few- miles, slowly through the 
lovely wooded country, and then switched off to 
allow a train of cars to pass. A short distance 
on, and another pause was made, in which the 
fireman and engineer went to a desolate-looking 
house, away up in a clearing, bringing us back a 
cup of water. It was evident that the demorali- 
zation of the country had even driven railroad 
companies and their employes into a disregard of 
systemization. 

•The road being exceedingly rough, and the 
train hands corresponding with the road, we 
did not enter Richmond until about five o'clock. 
The only vehicle which awaited the convenience 



THE HOLE IN" THE FLOOE. 373 

of the passengers was a one-horse wagon driven 
by an Irishman — both considerably dilapidated. 

We found a lodgment, and on the following day, 
while strolling through the city, we met some of the 
men from our hospital, who had just made the 
round of Libby Prison and Castle Thunder. They 
accompanied us to Castle Thunder, where we saw 
many of our men confined. "Why they were there 
I had no means of ascertaining, but presumed 
they had perpetrated offences of some kind in the 
knowledge of the authorities in charge. The place, 
a dismal one, looked perhaps more hideous to us 
because of the enormities that had been practiced 
there. We even said to ourselves, looking back, 
as we left the place, " Could those walls but 
recount the barbarities they have witnessed !" 

We next visited Libby Prison, which we found 
to be a gloomy brick building, standing at the foot 
of the road — its three stories seeming quite 
low as we descended to it. The rooms were long, 
low and narrow, having small grated windows, as 
indeed nearly every dwelling and barn in the Con- 
federacy seemed to have. 

On the cold floor — paved with round stones, 
which were hurtful to the feet at every step — our 
martyred men had lain till the bones wore 
through the flesh and they died from starva- 
tion. The lieutenant pointed out to us a hole 
in the cobble-stone floor, large enough for a man 
to pass through, and told us the story of the men 
who dug through fifteen rods of solid earth, with 



374 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

only their plates and spoonS; scooping out the hard 
clay till they reached a point on the outside. My 
mind naturally recurred to the details of their 
long, patient toil ; how they had managed to elude 
the vigilance of the guards, while crawling at a 
snail's pace with their puny tools ; how near they 
had been to exposure, before the tunnel was 
finished, and how, in the hope of soon reaching 
the Union lines, even through swamps, and rivers, 
and deadly foes, one hundred and fifty men 
dropped themselves down, one by one, into the 
mxOuth of the den, and passed noiselessly out. 
Some of them were retaken, to suffer over again 
the horrors of the prison ; others received the 
boon of liberty for the indescribable toil of weary 
days and nights. 

It was dusk when we began our way from this 
place, made mfamous by the torture of hundreds 
of the nation's best men, and we soon after reached 
the hospital at which we were fixvored with ac- 
commodations during our brief visit. 

In the morning we visited the cupola of the 
capital building and took a survey of the devas- 
tated city. Ewell had left the evidences of his 
destructiveness in the black ruins which lay 
around us. In the distance we distinctly saw 
Belle Isle, with the demolished bridge, over the 
James River, leading to it. 

"We next entered the office where the " iron- 
clad" oath was being administered. "We over- 
heard one person remark, as he passed out, " Wall. 



POVERTY APPARENT. 375 

now, that's about the tallest swearin' I ever done," 
"\vhile others seemed unconscious of the meaning 
of the act. Some came in unable to tell what 
the}' did want. Of one such, the officer asked, 
"What shall I do for you, sir?" "I want a 
parole," was the re^Dly. " Are you a soldier T 
" No." " Have you been one at any time during 
the war ?" " No." " Then you do not want a 
parole." " Don't I want a pass ?" asked the rebel, 
the happy thought giving just a little ray of light 
across his stolid face. " Those are done away 
with now," replied the officer, and the anxious 
rebel stepped back. About one hundred or more 
took the oath, and all were, with one exception, 
ragged, dirty, barefooted and bareheaded. 

The poverty apparent in these rooms gave rise 
to many reflections. The Senate Chamber was 
covered with a rag carpet very much worn. In 
another room we found a common ingrain, while 
the stair carpet was so far gone that we were 
obliged to use care to avoid tripping in its rents. 

Our curiosity finally led us in the direction of 
the buildings that had been temporarily occupied 
by Gen. Lee and Jefierson Davis. 



370 IN HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 



CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

SATISFIED WITH RICHMOND — PASSING DUTCH GAP — GETTING 
READY TO LEAVE — REACHING THE HOSPITAL — THE IN- 
STRUCTIONS — THE RAIN STORM — THE SHELTER — LEAVING 
POINT OF ROCKS — REBEL COMPANY — THE ORDERS — NURS- 
ING THE "good job" — GOING HOME — MEMORIES — THE 
PARTING WORDS — "THEY HAVE COME " — AT MY OLD 
WORK — NOT BLOOD-STAINED. 

Satisfied with onr visit to Riclimond, we started 
for City Point. While on our way from the hotel, 
at which we obtained refreshments, to the boat, 
we visited the Sanitary Commission boat — which 
was thronged with rebels, begging for food. Here 
they told us that, the day after Richmond came 
into our possession, they issued from the Govern- 
ment supplies sixteen thousand rations, and, from 
the Sanitary and Christian Commissions and Union 
agencies, fifteen thousand more — thus giving a faint 
idea of the destitution which had prevailed in the 
capital. For months the poor were thus fed by 
the Government, on which they had heaped vile 
epithets, and by the very men whose lives they 
had sought. We were soon well provided for in 
the carpeted cabin of our boat, where we rolled 
ourselves in blankets, and slept comfortably until 
morning. We started from the Richmond landing 



THE INSTRUCTIONS. 377 

at an early hour, and had a remarkably pleasant 
trip. The captain very kindly pointing out to us 
tlie different forts and hard-contested battle-fields. 
We passed Dutch Gap and arrived at City Point 
about noon, where we lay waiting for the arrival 
of the tug which was to take us up to Point of 
Rocks. 

The river was full of boats laden for their final 
departure. Sutlers' boats. Sanitary and Christian 
Commission barges, and Government boats, having 
all manner of supplies, were awaiting orders to 
leave. We watched with deep interest all these 
signs of the breaking up of the Grand Army of the 
Republic — our own hearts beating anxiously as 
we thought of the rest which we too had won, 
and that no more brave soldiers would Ije brought, • 
in shattered condition, to our white hospital tents, 
from bloody battle fields. 

At three o'clock we went on board the tug, 
and in thirty minutes thereafter were ascending 
the flight of sleeps which led to our hospital 
home. We were tired and hungry — the rest 
of the nurses had gone, "and our m^ess tent was 
taken down — and were obliged to "forage" for 
the time. 

The steward told us to go to the Government 
kitchen and cook whatever we liked best, and, 
being entitled to our rations from Government 
while in Government employ, and preferring to 
take what I liked, rather than to have it dealt 
out to me at the option of those who had no 



378 IN HOSPITAL AND CA^LT. 

right to limit us, I gave little heed to her in- 
structions. 

We took our cooked food to our quarters, and 
ate it from the top of a dry goods box, rel- 
ishing it exceedingly. For several days we 
lived in this way — Mrs. Cahoon attending to 
the only ward remaining, and I busy in finish- 
ing up the mending yet on hand. Miss Leonard 
had left us the day following our return from 
Eichmond. 

My shelter here was very faulty. A rain 
storm came on one night, and upon awaking 
in the morning, a stream of water was running 
down upon my face, and another upon my feet, 
from holes in the canvas roof It rained with- 
out ceasing for two days and nights, leaving us 
without a dry article of clothing or bedding. 
Yet, drenched as they were, we were compelled to 
sleep under them, keeping a fire near at hand a 
j)ortion of the time. 

On the succeeding Sunday morning the bright 
sun broke cheerily upon us and we passed the day 
in drying our wet clothing. 

On Monday morning we bade adieu to the few 
remaining attendants at Point of Rocks, and took 
the boat for Washington. We had a very plea- 
sant journey, and were accompanied by rebel 
officers and women — many of whom had large 
amounts of baggage stored in long coffin-like 
boxes. 

On reaching Washington I did not look for an 



MEMORIES. 379 

abrupt breaking up of my military life, having 
left Point of Rocks under the impression that 
I would be assigned to duty in a hospital at 
Alexandria, — but an order was issued,, to take 
effect on the first day of June, that all hospitals 
kept open after that date should be at the expense 
of the surgeons in charge. So few patients re- 
mained to be nursed officials were suspected 
of a design to nurse the " good job " a little 
longer. The order had the desired effect, and the 
hospitals were broken up without delay. 

Home was now the beautiful port in view. 
It was the first time that I felt a willingness to 
seek its shelter during three long years. V/hile 
battles were to be fought, I was ready and truly 
anxious to endure suffering, to be near the scene 
of conflict and to help minister to the bleeding 
heroes. I have even thought that imprisonment 
alone would have kept me from my country's 
ser\-ice after the way to enter into it had been 
opened up. 

Among the sad memories of these years in 
hospital and camp, of some fast friendships formed 
when the dead lay around us, with the suffering 
and groaning on every hand, there remain some 
pleasant ones — the cherished of my life. In the 
silent watches of the night and the peaceful 
hours of the day they come to me as ministering 
angels to soothe my soul, when troubled with 
life's many little perplexities, and awaken in me a 
charitable view of earthly affairs. 



380 IX HOSPITAL AND CAMP. 

I fully realized the truth of the parting words, 
" You will have some pleasant as well as sad 
remembrances of your military life !" spoken by 
Miss Dis, as I left her residence, for the depot, 
on my homeward way. 

I arrived at Auburn, New York, just in time to 
meet with an old friend, and hear the salutation, 
" YV'ell, I suppose you have fought, bled and died 
for your country," when, in the wildest excitement, 
several ladies rushed in and exclaimed, " They 
have come !" and without giving me time to effect 
a change of clothing, I was marched off to assist 
in welcoming the remnant of the war-worn One 
Hundred and Eleventh Regiment back to its 
native city. 

Sick, weary with travel, dusty, and ragged, 
many were taken into the clean rooms of the 
hotel, and laid on the white counterpanes, while 
I, who was supposed to know how, went about 
at my old work of washing begrimed faces. and 
combing tangled hair. This time the heroes 

WERE NOT BLOOD-STAINED. 



THE END. 



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